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THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 


THE 
VILLAGE  SHIELD 

A  STORY  OF  MEXICO 


BY 

RUTH  GAINES 

AND 

GEORGIA  WILLIS  READ 


NEW  YORK 

E.  P.  BUTTON  &  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1917 
BY  E.  P.  DUTTON  &  COMPANY 


PRINTED    IN    THE    UNITED    STATES   OF    AMERICA 


PREFACE 

The  full-page  illustrations  for  this  book  have 
been  taken  from  three  famous  books  of  travel, 
written  in  each  case  by  men  of  science,  viz.: 
Six  Months  Residence  and  Travels  in  Mexico, 
by  W.  Bullock,  London,  1824;  Mitla,  Travels 
in  Mexico  and  Guatemala,  by  G.  F.  von  Temp- 
sky,  London,  1858;  and  Mexico,  Landscapes 
and  Popular  Sketches,  by  C.  Sartorius,  Lon- 
don, 1859.  The  two  former  authors  made 
their  own  sketches;  the  latter  had  the  good 
fortune  to  secure  those  of  the  no  less  famous 
artist,  Moritz  Rugendas. 

The  tailpieces  and  line  drawings  have  been 
redrawn  from  the  beautiful  picture-writings 
of  the  Indians.  Some  of  these  antedate,  and 
others  are  contemporaneous  with,  the  Span- 
ish Conquest. 

It  is  felt,  by  the  authors,  and  the  publishers, 


PREFACE 

that  the  veracious  delineations  here  reproduced 
represent  as  truly  now  as  when  they  were  first 
drawn,  the  life  of  Mexico.  In  addition,  they 
possess  unusual  historic  and  artistic  interest, 
which  should  render  them  of  permanent  value 
to  all  students  of  that  wonderful  land. 


viii 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

PREFACE vii 

PART  I  —  THE  VILLAGE .15 

PART  II  —  LEY  FUGA -    91 

PART  III  —  A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT       .     .     .179 
NOTES »i    •••  257 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

I    The  Market  (Colored}     .     .     .     Frontispiece 


FACING 
PAGE 


II  Colima's  Smoky  Plume 21 

III  In  the  Time  of  Don  Felipe  (Colored)  .      .     28 

IV  La  Hacienda  de  los  Pajaritos  Santos  (Col- 

ored)       44 

V  San  Juan  de  Uloa 108 

VI  The  Region  of  the  Pines 136 

VII  Huitzitzilin 180 

VIII  The  Ruins  Which  Dot  Our  Land   (Col- 
ored)       188 

IX  Porfiria's  Mother 194 

X  Tezpi  and  Nahua 201 

XI  At  the  Close  of  the  War 241 

XII  The  End  (Symbolic  Design)      .     .     .     .252 

TAILPIECES  AND  MEDALLIONS 

PAGE 

I     Design   from   the   "Mantle  of   the  Five 

Roses" Title  page 

II     Place-name :  A  Village  by  the  Water 

Half-title,  Part  I 

III  A  Conquistador 25 

IV  A  Goose 36 

V    One  of  Cortes's  Ships 47 

VI     A  Spanish  Priest 6l 

VII    A  Fisherman 73 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 


VIII  A  Maguey  in  Flower 87 

IX  Place-name  of  the  Home  of  the  Taras- 

cos:  Michoacan  .      .       Half-title,  Part  II 

X  Symbolic  Design  of  a  Temple     .      .      .    104 

XI  Drinking  Scene 118 

XII  Place-name:  A  Battleaxe  on  a  Mountain  133 

XIII  A  Hunter 145 

XIV  Design  from  the  "Mantle  of  the  Tiger"    162 
XV  The  God  of  Flowers 176 

XVI  Place-name :  Huitzitzilin   Half-title,  Part  III 

XVII  Place-name:  The  Island  of  Aztlan    .      .   190 

XVIII  A  Rabbit      . 202 

XIX  An  Indian  Portrait 215 

XX  A  Girl  Weaving 226 

XXI  An  Armadillo 239 

XXII  Place-name :  Chapultepec,  the  Hill  of  the 

Grasshopper 264 


THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 


A  LETTER  TO  THE  ONE  WHO 
READS  THIS  BOOK 

Dear  Schoolmate: — 

This  is  a  story  of  real  Mexicans;  not  the 
fierce  and  noisy  men  who  are  fighting  and  quar- 
reling among  themselves  and  sometimes  with 
us,  to  decide  who  shall  govern  their  nation, 
but  the  Indians  of  pure  blood,  the  descendants 
or  successors  of  the  Aztec  people  whom  the 
Spaniards  found  in  Mexico  when  Fernando 
Cortes  invaded  the  country  in  1520.  There 
are  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  of  these  Indian 
tribes,  and  four-fifths  of  the  people  of  Mexico 
have  some  Indian  blood  in  their  veins.  When 
you  read  the  adventures  of  Porfiria  and  Ramon, 
you  may  find  it  hard  to  believe  that  these  gentle, 
courteous,  cleanly,  honorable  people  are  in  any 
way  connected  with  the  excitable,  untidy,  and 
often  untrustworthy  natives  of  whom  we  read 
in  the  newspapers;  or  that  the  pretty  village 

3 


4  A  LETTER 

by  the  lake,  and  the  beautiful  valley  with  its 
delightful  cave  can  be  a  part  of  that  dry,  hot, 
treeless  land  which  our  soldier-boys  know  as 
Mexico.  But  such  authorities  as  Sartorius,1 
the  German  naturalist,  and  Mme.  Calderon  de 
la  Barca,2  the  English  wife  of  the  Spanish  am- 
bassador, give  us  in  their  famous  books  on 
Mexico  glimpses  of  the  Indians  which  show 
that  their  native  courtliness  and  dignity  can 
scarcely  be  overdrawn.  Of  these,  the  Taras- 
cos,  Porfiria's  Indian  tribe,  are  descendants  of 
an  early  people  who  rivaled  the  Aztecs  in  civili- 
zation and  power,  and  are  even  now  noted  for 
their  orators  and  the  songs  of  their  women. 
As  for  the  cave,  which  seems  so  like  a  fairy 
place,  there  are  many  others  in  Mexico,  more 
fairy-like,  as  you  may  read  some  day;  and  the 
valley  is  so  real  that  it  waits,  perhaps  for  your 
exploration,  in  a  cleft  of  the  Sierra  Madre. 

1  C.  Sartorius :     "Mexico,  Landscapes  and  Popular 
Sketches,"  Triibner  and  Co.,  London,  1859. 

2  Mme.  Calderon  de  la  Barca :     "Life  in  Mexico," 
Boston  and  London,  1843. 


A  LETTER  5 

But  no  story  of  modern  Mexico  could  be  true 
which  did  not  tell  us  something  of  the  misery 
of  the  people,  the  poverty,  the  cruel  oppression, 
the  unending  civil  war ;  and  all  these  things  you 
will  find  in  the  story  of  the  Village  Shield. 
Still,  the  story  pictures  for  us  more  happiness 
than  horror,  more  peace  than  war.  In  its 
pages  you  can  see  what  a  useful,  joyful  life  the 
Mexican  Indians  might  all  be  leading  to-day, 
if  all  the  white  men  in  Mexico  were  as  kind  and 
wise  as  Don  Luis  and  his  wife,  and  if  all  the 
priests  were  as  loving  and  good  as  the  Padre 
who  took  care  of  Porfiria  and  Ramon  and  little 
Felix.  The  priests  in  Mexico  have  not  all  been 
so  devoted  to  the  Indians  and  so  willing  to  lift 
them  out  of  their  poverty  and  ignorance,  but 
there  are  two  priests  whom  the  grateful  Mex- 
icans will  never  forget.  In  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury Bishop  Quiroga  took  the  part  of  the  na- 
tives of  the  province  of  Michoacan  against  the 
Spanish  rulers,  who  burned  their  Indian  chief 
to  death  because  he  would  not  obey  them ;  and 
in  1810  the  Padre  Miguel  Hidalgo,  a  parish 


6  A  LETTER 

priest  in  a  little  town  called  Dolores,  near  the 
city  of  Guanajuato,  led  the  first  actual  upris- 
ing of  the  Mexicans  in  their  long  struggle  for 
independence.  Padre  Hidalgo  was  captured 
by  the  Spanish  authorities  and  shot  in  prison 
at  Chihuahua,  on  July  31,  1811,  but  the  torch 
of  liberty  which  he  carried  so  bravely  was 
handed  on  to  other  patriots. 

And  as  there  have  been  some  good  priests 
in  Mexico,  so  too  there  have  been  kind  white 
men,  like  Porfiria's  Don  Luis;  men  who  have 
looked  out  for  the  welfare  of  the  peones  on  the 
great  estates  and  in  the  mines.  But,  in  gen- 
eral, the  white  men  who  have  gone  to  Mexico 
in  the  last  fifty  years, — from  England,  France, 
Germany,  Belgium,  Japan,  the  United  States, 
• — have  been  chiefly  concerned  with  making 
money  out  of  Mexico  and  using  the  riches  of 
the  country, — the  fertile  soil  and  the  mines, — 
to  increase  their  own  power  and  fill  their  own 
pockets.  They  have  thought  of  themselves 
first  and  of  Mexico  afterwards.  And  we  all 
know  that  the  man  or  woman,  or  boy  or  girl, 


A  LETTER  7 

who  thinks  of  himself  first,  has  not  usually 
much  thought  left  over  for  other  people.  The 
good  neighbor  is  one  who  stands  ready  to  give 
a  helping  hand  to  the  man  next  door,  not  to  go 
in  and  rob  his  pantry.  And  Mexico  is  our 
neighbor. 

Of  course,  it  is  natural  for  the  energetic, 
educated  business  men  from  northern  coun- 
tries, who  invest  money  in  Mexico,  to  be  im- 
patient with  the  slow  and  primitive  methods 
of  the  Indians  and  Meztizos,  or  half-breeds, 
and  to  want  to  take  everything  into  their  own 
hands  and  "speed  up"  Mexico.  But  one  of  the 
things  which  neighbors  have  to  learn  is  not 
to  meddle.  To  help  without  meddling  is  some- 
thing that  very  few  nations,  or  individuals, 
have  learned  to  do,  to-day.  We  cannot  always 
be  sure  that  "the  way  we  do  it  at  home"  is  the 
best  way  to  do  it  next  door.  We  cannot  be 
sure  that  the  Mexican  Indians  will  never  make 
for  themselves  a  peaceable,  efficient  govern- 
ment, merely  because  they  haven't  done  it  yet. 
The  Spaniards  and  Meztizos  have  been  trying 


8  A  LETTER 

for  four  hundred  years  to  conquer  the  Indian, 
and  the  result  has  been  a  see-saw  of  revolu- 
tion and  tyranny,  but  the  Indian  is  still  cling- 
ing to  his  mountains  and  fighting  for  his  lands. 
And  you  must  not  think  of  him  as  always 
an  ignorant  peon  wrapped  in  a  bright,  hand- 
woven  blanket.  Many  lawyers  and  profes- 
sional men  of  eminence  in  Mexico  have  been 
Indians  of  pure  blood.  Mexico's  greatest 
president,  Benito  Juarez,  was  a  Zapoteca  In- 
dian, and  the  story  of  his  life  is  even  more 
romantic  than  anything  you  will  find  in  the 
story  of  Porfiria  and  Ramon.  His  father  and 
mother  were  both  Indians  of  the  Zapoteca 
tribe,  and  they  lived  on  the  shores  of  a  moun- 
tain tarn  called  the  Enchanted  Lake,  near  the 
city  of  Oaxaca.  Little  Benito  was  born  in 
March,  1806,  in  an  adobe  hut  with  a  thatched 
roof.  His  father  and  mother  died  when  he 
was  three  years  old,  and  he  lived  until  he  was 
twelve  with  his  grandmother,  and  knew  no 
language  but  the  Zapoteca  dialect.  But  his 
tribe  were  known  for  their  industry  and  hon- 


A  LETTER  9 

esty,  and  the  city  people  were  glad  to  take  the 
children  to  train  as  house  servants;  so  when 
Benito  was  twelve  years  old  he  set  out  for 
Oaxaca,  some  forty  miles  away,  and  there  he 
was  taken  into  the  house  of  a  good,  religious 
man,  a  bookbinder,  who  taught  him  reading, 
writing,  arithmetic,  and  Spanish  grammar,  be- 
sides all  the  other  things,  such  as  good  man- 
ners, which  an  ignorant  little  Indian  boy  would 
need  to  know.  When  he  was  fifteen  he  went 
to  a  church  school  where  he  was  taught  Medi- 
eval Latin,  canon  law,  dogmatic  theology  and 
philosophy, — queer  studies  for  a  young  boy, 
we  should  think  now-a-days.  His  guardian, 
the  bookbinder,  must  have  grown  to  love  him 
and  believe  in  him,  for  he  wanted  to  educate 
him  to  be  a  priest;  but  the  boy  chose  to  be  a 
lawyer  instead,  and  he  received  the  degree  of 
Bachelor  of  Laws,  and  later  the  degree  of 
Doctor  of  Civil  Law,  from  the  University  of 
Oaxaca.  In  1834,  when  he  was  not  yet  twenty- 
eight  years  old,  he  was  admitted  to  the  Bar. 
The  story  of  Benito  Juarez's  life  is  too  long 


10  A  LETTER 

to  tell  here;  but  you  can  read  it  in  Mexico's 
history,  if  you  will.  The  little  Indian  boy  be- 
came Governor  of  Oaxaca;  he  prepared  and 
proclaimed  a  civil  and  criminal  code  for  the 
State,  "the  first  code  of  laws  ever  published  in 
Mexico."  He  was  exiled  for  political  reasons 
in  1855,  and  lived  for  a  while  in  New  Orleans, 
where  he  used  well  his  opportunity  to  study  the 
political  institutions  of  the  United  States.  In 
1859,  the  United  States  "recognized  Juarez  as 
the  legitimate  constitutional  ruler  of  Mexico," 
and  to-day  he  is  revered  in  memory  as  a  great 
President.  In  the  midst  of  his  presidency  the 
French  people  set  up  another  government  in 
Mexico  and  made  Maximilian,  the  Austrian, 
Emperor  of  the  country ;  but  the  United  States 
stood  by  Mexico  in  disapproving  of  this  change, 
and  in  1865,  Juarez  came  into  power  again  and 
put  Maximilian  to  death.  It  may  seem  to  us 
now  a  great  pity  that  he  should  have  done  this, 
but  he  honestly  thought  he  was  right  at  the 
time. 

We  are  told  by  Mr.  Enock,  who  has  written 


A  LETTER  11 

a  sketch  of  him,  that  Juarez  had  "A  somewhat 
stoical  temperament,  a  reserve  in  matters  of 
public  importance,  coolness  and  self-possession 
in  the  face  of  danger,  patient  endurance  of  ad- 
versity, dignified  courtesy  at  all  times."  Men 
called  him  "The  President  in  the  Black  Coat," 
because  in  a  day  when  diplomats  and  military 
men  were  fond  of  wearing  their  brilliant  cos- 
tumes and  uniforms,  he  wore  always  the  plain 
black  clothes  of  the  Mexican  student  or  pro- 
fessional man.  He  died  in  1872,  but  to-day 
his  influence  still  lives  in  his  unhappy  country, 
for  Carranza's  promise  to  his  countrymen  and 
to  the  United  States  is  that  he  will  carry  out 
the  Reforms  of  Juarez,  Mexico's  greatest  son. 
When  you  have  read  the  story  of  Porfiria 
and  Ramon  you  may  want  to  know  more  of 
these  Southern  neighbors  of  ours.  Their  his- 
tory, in  the  days  when  Cortes  entered  the  land 
of  the  Aztecs  and  conquered  their  king, 
Moctezuma,  is  as  strange  and  wild  as  the  most 
unreal  of  romances;  and  their  later  struggles 
against  their  Spanish  rulers  are  only  less  ex- 


12  A  LETTER 

citing.  This  neighbor  who  has  suffered  so 
much  from  outside  oppression  and  robbery,  as 
well  as  from  the  men  of  her  own  household, 
needs  our  sympathy  and  our  unselfish  help. 
Shall  we  not  try  to  understand  her  and  really 
be  neighborly? 

Affectionately  yours, 
FLORENCE  CONVERSE. 


PART  I 
THE  VILLAGE 


THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

CHAPTER  I 

MY  earliest  recollections  have  to  do  with 
the  sound  of  rippling  water,  with  the 
lapping  lake  on  the  shore  of  which  our  humble 
hamlet  stood,  and  the  tinkling  rills  that  ran 
thereto  down  the  center  of  each  cobbled,  tree- 
arched  lane.  The  source  of  these  rills  was  to 
be  found  on  the  slope  above  the  village  in  two 
springs  that  gushed  from  beneath  the  roots  of 
a  gigantic  fig  tree.  One  hot  and  of  a  pleasing 
softness,  the  other  cold  as  the  Colima  l  snows, 
they  formed  our  village's  sole  and  sufficient 
wealth. 

Thither,  in  the  fresh  dawn,  herdsboys  drove 
the  goats  to  water  on  their  way  to  upland  pas- 
tures ;  there  the  maidens,  climbing  in  single  file 
through  the  dewy  milpa,2  filled  their  water 

is 


16  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

jars  for  household  needs,  and  there  at  shallow 
tanks,  daylong,  the  village  mothers  washed  and 
talked.  Many  well-built  sluices  from  this  cen- 
tral source  irrigated  our  cornfields,  our  patches 
of  vegetables  on  the  confines  of  the  hamlet,  and 
the  tiny  orchards  embowering  each  home.  The 
small  domain,  which  thus  girdled  the  village 
with  pasture,  tilth  and  shore,  was  common 
land,  and  was  called  the  Village  Shield. 

Where  the  outer  rim  of  our  Shield  rested  on 
the  blue  expanse  of  lake,  stood  the  cottage  of 
my  grandparents.  Raised  on  piles,  it  was 
reached  by  a  narrow  causeway.  Beneath  it 
the  glancing  water  was  always  in  motion,  al- 
ways playing  with  shifting  lights  through  open 
door  and  window,  and  even  through  the  wat- 
tled walls.  The  thatched  roof  was  over- 
shadowed by  a  trellised  trumpet  vine,  and  by 
the  massive  green  of  an  ancient  mango  tree. 
This  last  comprised  our  orchard.  At  the  door 
of  the  cottage  in  fair  weather  our  fishing  boat 
was  moored. 

There  were  only  four  of  us,  my  grandfa- 


THE  VILLAGE  17 

ther  and  grandmother,  my  foster  brother  Ra- 
mon, and  myself.  Ramon  was  a  good  four 
years  older  than  I,  tall  and  strong  for  his  age. 
Yet  our  christening  day,  as  you  will  see,  was 
the  same. 

It  happened,  early  one  morning,  when  my 
grandfather  and  Ramon  were  out  as  usual 
fishing  for  pescados  blancos?  and  my  grand- 
mother, water  jar  on  shoulder,  had  gone  to  the 
springs,  that  I  was  awakened  by  a  prolonged 
and  unfamiliar  buzzing  among  the  flowers  of 
the  trumpet  vine.  The  short,  quick  strokes  of 
the  humming-birds  that  frequented  our  arbor 
were  different  from  this  continuous,  not  to  say 
excited,  uproar.  I  sprang  from  my  bed.  A 
scattering  cone  of  insects  which  centered  their 
flight  on  a  darker  apex  of  struggling,  black 
bodies,  buzzed  about  the  roof-tree.  It  was  a 
swarm  of  bees. 

Young  as  I  was,  perhaps  in  my  seventh  year, 
I  was  aware  that  we  were  very  poor.  Grand- 
father often  shook  his  white  head  at  the  small 
catch  of  fish,  and  complained  in  a  quavering 


i8  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

voice  that  the  pescados  blancos  were  not  as 
plentiful  as  they  used  to  be  when  he  was  young. 
And  Grandmother  sometimes  sighed  over  the 
heavy  pounding  of  cornmeal  for  tortillas* 
Then  Ramon  and  I  would  slip  away  to  our  tiny 
plot  of  peppers  and  beans,  and  weed  and  water 
the  plants,  wishing  the  while  that  we  might 
suddenly  grow  bigger,  so  that  we  could  help 
our  dear  grandparents  more.  This  too  was 
the  burden  of  my  prayer  to  the  Virgin  each 
night  and  morning  as  I  knelt  before  her  image 
in  the  gable  of  our  hut. 

The  bees,  therefore,  appeared  to  me  to  be 
the  Virgin's  answer.  I  went  quietly  to  work 
to  make  them  mine.  From  within  I  brought 
Grandfather's  coat  and  trousers  of  white 
manta*  cloth,  and  laid  them,  as  smoothly  as  I 
could,  on  the  ground.  Then,  from  one  of  our 
two  petates?  I  fashioned  a  rude  skep.7  It  was 
not  a  hard  task  to  climb  the  trellis,  nor  to  cut 
the  vine  to  which  the  mass  of  bees  had  clung. 
With  a  soft  thud,  they  fell  to  the  cloth  below. 
For  a  few  minutes  the  little  creatures  went 


THE  VILLAGE  19 

wild,  but  gradually  they  settled,  reconnoitered, 
and,  to  my  unspeakable  joy,  moved  into  their 
new  home. 

Grandmother  must  have  found  the  gossip  at 
the  fountain  more  to  her  liking  than  usual  that 
morning.  The  sun  was  near  midheaven  when 
at  last  she  came  in  sight,  hot  and  tired.  I  ran 
to  meet  her. 

"Grandmother,"  I  cried,  "the  Blessed  Virgin 
has  sent  us  a  swarm  of  honey  bees." 

In  our  simple  lives  the  rising  and  setting 
sun,  the  tasseling  maize,  the  winds  even  that 
ruffled  the  lake,  were  events.  How  much  more 
the  unlocked  for  arrival  of  the  bees! 

Soon  it  was  noised  abroad  in  the  whole  vil- 
lage that  Porfiria,  the  fisherman's  daughter, 
had  succeeded  in  hiving  a  swarm.  "And  such 
a  swarm,"  continued  the  chief  goatherd's  wife, 
who  had  come  with  the  rest  to  see  them, 
"They  are  golden-banded  and  altogether 
larger  than  any  I  have  ever  seen." 

"Are  they  bees,  then?"  asked  Grandmother 
dubiously,  when  our  neighbors  had  gone  away. 


20  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

"Without  doubt,"  answered  Grandfather, 
who  with  Ramon  had  returned  with  the  day's 
catch  in  the  midst  of  the  excitement.  "But 
also  they  do  not  belong  to  us." 

I  listened  incredulous.  My  mind  flew  with 
the  swiftness  of  the  bees  to  each  possible 
owner,  the  cacique,8  the  goatherd,  the  mule- 
teer, the  charcoal  burner,  all  those  whose  lives 
were  bounded  by  the  dun-colored  hills  or  the 
silvery  shore  of  the  Shield. 

"But  they  do,  they  do,"  I  cried.  "The  good 
God  gave  them  to  me."  Thereupon  like  a  tem- 
pest came  my  tears. 

Grandfather's  arms  were  around  me  in  a 
moment.  "Child  of  my  child,  child  of  my 
heart,"  he  crooned,  rocking  me  softly  until  my 
sobbing  ceased.  "Listen,  pobrecita,"  9  he  said, 
presently.  "All  the  world  is  not  our  little 
hamlet,  nor  the  fields,  nor  the  lake  shore  you 
know  so  well,  though  now  alas !  this  is  all  of  the 
world  that  this  tribe  of  Tarascos  10  owns.  The 
lake  which  by  day  holds  its  mirror  to  the 
mighty  sun,  and  by  night  cherishes  the  stars; 


THE  VILLAGE  21 

the  palest  blue  mountain  peaks  of  the  horizon, 
fiery  Colima  yonder,  whose  smoky  plume  you 
see,  east,  west,  north  and  south, — these  were 
but  a  part  of  our  fathers'  vast  empire." 

The  fires  of  his  eyes,  suddenly  kindled  like 
those  of  the  volcano,  went  out  as  suddenly. 
"What  I  mean,  little  one,  is  this.  Have  you 
forgotten  that  over  beyond  the  village  lands, 
farther  away  than  you  can  see,  stretch  those 
of  Don  Luis  ?  He  is  a  great  and  rich  man,  the 
son,  from  generation  to  generation,  of  our  con- 
querors. In  truth,  it  is  only  by  the  sufferance 
of  his  ancestors,  who  made  a  treaty  with  our 
fathers,  that  our  free  village  remains.  From 
his  hives,  methinks,  these  honey  bees  have 
strayed." 

Silence  fell  upon  us  for  a  space,  I  pondering 
over  the  huge  world  thus  thrust  upon  me, 
Grandfather  wrapped  in  the  past. 

"Then,  Grandfather,"  broke  in  Ramon,  "if 
Don  Luis  is  so  rich,  surely  he  will  not  be- 
grudge Porfiria  her  bees,  especially  as  she 
caught  them." 


22  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

"Perhaps,  perhaps  not.  Who  can  say?"  re- 
plied Grandfather.  "To-morrow  we  will  go 
and  see." 

But  in  fact  it  was  several  days  later  that 
Grandfather,  Ramon  and  I  set  out  for  the 
Casa  Grande  n  where  Don  Luis  lived.  Very 
early,  by  the  light  of  the  Day  Star,  we  started. 
The  pattering  flocks  of  goats  and  the  herdsboys 
kept  us  company  till  they  found  pasturage  in 
the  folds  of  the  brown  hills,  where  in  spite  of 
winter  drouth,  the  short  grass  was  still  green. 
A  shower  the  night  before  presaged  the  sum- 
mer rains.  The  ground,  made  firm  and  dust- 
less  for  walking,  was  grateful  to  our  feet. 
The  air  came  fresh  and  fragrant  on  the  dawn 
wind.  Sometimes  we  stopped  to  rest,  some- 
times Ramon  carried  me  on  his  strong  back. 
At  length  the  sun  rose,  yellow  as  the  masses  of 
oranges  which  covered  the  trees  on  the  hill- 
sides about  us,  and  out  of  which  it  seemed  to 
bloom.  To  me,  who  had  never  been  so  far 
afield,  the  world  spread  limitless. 

To  my  eyes,  it  was  a  strangely  ordered  world 


THE  VILLAGE  23 

as  well.  Instead  of  growing  in  haphazard  pro- 
fusion as  in  our  tiny  orchards,  orange  groves 
gave  place  to  bananas,  and  these  in  turn  to 
limes.  Ranks  of  pomegranates  stood  in  scar- 
let flower.  Even  the  tuna,12  that  wild  fruit  of 
the  desert,  was  here  set  out  in  rows.  Over- 
looking the  whole  vast  orchard,  which  as  my 
grandfather  told  me  comprised  only  a  section 
of  Don  Luis's  estate,  was  the  Casa  Grande, 
a  massive  building  with  walls  of  blinding 
white. 

We  soon  presented  ourselves  at  the  court- 
yard gate.  There  was  much  running  to  and 
fro  within,  and  it  seemed  like  a  great  while 
before  we  were  admitted  to  the  presence  of 
Don  Luis.  But  he,  as  I  afterwards  learned, 
was  always  punctilious  in  according  audience 
to  any  one,  even  the  humblest  of  his  peones.13 
He  was  at  breakfast  when  we  were  ushered 
in. 

Now  the  cacique  of  our  village  was  an  old 
man  with  white  hair.  So  were  his  council- 
ors, men  wise  with  years,  like  my  grandfa- 


24  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

ther,  who  was  one  of  them.  But  Don  Luis 
was  young.  The  rich,  all-powerful  ruler  of 
ten  square  leagues  of  land  and  a  hundred  vil- 
lages, as  I  later  knew  him  to  be,  was  at  this 
time  barely  twenty  years  of  age.  His  youth, 
his  engaging  smile  as  he  welcomed  us,  made 
nothing  of  our  difference  in  rank. 

Salutations  over,  Grandfather  explained  our 
errand,  I  holding  fast  to  his  hand  the  while. 
Would  the  judge  consider  me  a  culprit  for 
stopping  and  seizing  his  bees?  Under  the 
gaze  of  Don  Luis's  keen  eyes,  I  felt  myself 
most  miserable. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  narrative,  during 
which  his  expression  had  become  more  and 
more  grave,  he  called  me  and  Ramon  to  his 
side. 

"My  children,"  said  he,  placing  a  hand  on 
each  of  our  heads,  "you  love  your  grandpar- 
ents?" 

"Yes,"  we  said  in  chorus. 

"Honor  them  as  well.  Truth  and  honesty 
will  be  your  heritage." 


THE  VILLAGE  25 

He  turned  to  Grandfather.  "To  you,  who 
have  given  up  your  day  to  this  long  journey, 
may  your  new-found  bees  make  some  return." 

"May  God  reward  you  a  thousandfold,  Don 
Luis." 

"God  be  with  you."  So  ended  the  inter- 
view. 


CHAPTER  II 

BY  another  summer,  our  bees  had  stored 
enough  honey  from  the  ever-blooming 
flowers  to  form  a  welcome  addition  to  our 
fare.  Grandmother  spread  our  tortillas  oc- 
casionally with  the  fragrant  sweet,  and  what 
she  saved  she  was  able  to  exchange  in  a  small 
way  for  our  neighbor's  produce.  This  was  the 
more  fortunate  as  Grandfather  was  becoming 
crippled  by  rheumatism,  and  could  no  longer 
compete  with  the  younger  fishermen.  He  and 
Ramon  still  supplied  fish  for  our  own  needs, 
but  for  purposes  of  barter  we  had  only  our 
little  store  of  honey  and  the  fruit  from  our 
mango  tree.  Yet,  although  very  poor,  we 
managed  to  exist  without  calling  upon  our 
neighbors  for  assistance,  and  rude  as  Grand- 
mother's household  arrangements  were,  outf 
little  home  was  always  trim  and  clean. 

What  with  helping  our  grandparents  in  this 
26 


THE  VILLAGE  27 

brave  and  never-ending  struggle,  Ramon  and 
I  had  little  time  to  play.  Nor  did  we,  in  truth, 
see  much  of  the  other  children  of  the  village 
except  as  we  met  them  at  the  springs  or  in  the 
fields  of  the  Shield. 

Our  days  ran  as  uneventfully  as  the  tinkling 
rivulets  until  the  second  great  event  of  my  life, 
which  had  to  do  with  the  marriage  of  Don  Luis 
and  the  opening  of  our  church. 

This  church,  which  in  my  grandfather's  boy- 
hood had  been  the  center  of  the  village  life, 
was  closed  and  almost  in  ruins.  Its  two  slen- 
der spires  were  still  the  landmark  of  the  fish- 
ermen in  sailing  home  across  the  lake.  But 
the  bells  no  longer  rang  out  over  the  water,  and 
even  the  door  was  fastened  shut  by  the  tendrils 
of  a  luxuriant  vine. 

Fiesta 14  days,  such  as  that  of  Corpus 
Christi,15  All  Souls  and  Christmas,  were  still 
celebrated  among  us.  At  these  times  the  vil- 
lage was  half  deserted,  all  who  could,  men, 
women  and  children,  making  a  pilgrimage  of 
many  miles  across  mountains  and  through 


28  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

steep  barrancas 16  to  the  distant  city  of  Lerma. 
They  took  with  them  on  these  occasions  fresh 
vegetables,  fruits,  turkeys  and  cheeses  as  well 
as  baskets  and  mats,  to  sell  in  the  great  fairs 
which  they  told  us  were  held  at  the  very  doors 
of  the  cathedral.  They  brought  back  alas! 
very  little,  because  most  of  their  money  was 
spent  for  drink,  mescal,17  tequila18  and  agu- 
ardiente.19 For  days  after  their  return  from 
such  expeditions,  flaming  torches,  music,  danc- 
ing and  drunken  revelry  made  hideous  our  usu- 
ally placid  shore. 

On  account  of  these  fiestas,  Grandfather 
told  me,  the  Casa  Grande  no  longer  held  with 
the  Church.  In  the  time  of  Don  Luis's  fa- 
ther a  feud  between  two  villages  had  culmi- 
nated one  Christmas  day  in  a  drunken  mas- 
sacre in  the  churches  themselves.  Old  Don 
Felipe  heard  of  this  in  Mexico  City  whither 
he  had  driven  in  great  state  for  the  holidays. 
On  his  return,  hastened  by  this  catastrophe, 
he  banished  from  his  domains  the  priests, 
whom  he  held  responsible  for  the  outbreak, 


THE  VILLAGE  29 

with  the  exception  of  one  who  resided  at  the 
Casa  Grande  to  minister  to  the  needs  of  his 
own  family.  At  the  same  time,  he  forbade  the 
manufacture  of  or  traffic  in  all  liquor,  and  rode 
about  in  person  directing  the  destruction  of 
every  maguey,™  from  which  the  worst  of  these 
fiery  brandies  are  made.  Thus  it  came  about 
that  in  place  of  these  terrible  plants  flourished 
the  spreading  orchards  of  which  I  have  already 
spoken. 

Though  there  were  murmurings,  of  course, 
at  Don  Felipe's  restrictions,  the  villages  all 
flourished  because  of  them.  Ours,  which  had 
been  sodden  in  poverty,  became  self-support- 
ing under  the  Master's  patriarchal  care.  What 
work  he  required  from  the  villagers,  he  paid 
for  justly;  what  produce  they  raised  was  now, 
without  church  tithes,  their  own,  and  since  it 
was  not  squandered  for  drink,  sufficed  to  keep 
them  in  comfort.  At  intervals  the  priest  who 
ministered  to  the  family  at  the  Casa  Grande 
came  to  give  them  the  consolations  of  religion. 
For  the  rest,  they  were  free  to  call  upon  Don 


30  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

Felipe  to  share  their  joys  and  their  sorrows. 
And  when  the  old  temptation  to  drink  came  too 
strongly  upon  them,  he  overlooked  the  short- 
comings of  those  whom  he  regarded  as  chil- 
dren. To  this  beneficent  rule  had  succeeded 
Don  Luis. 

Owing  to  his  youth,  and  to  the  fact  that  he 
was  in  Paris,  being  educated,  at  the  time  of 
his  father's  death,  the  actual  management  of 
the  hacienda 21  passed  into  the  hands  of  an 
administrador22  Only  recently  had  Don  Luis 
himself  taken  charge,  and  he  was  as  yet  un- 
married and  without  family  ties.  To  this,  my 
grandfather  thought,  was  due  the  fact  that  no 
priest  now  lived  at  the  Casa  Grande.  Within 
my  memory,  none  had  visited  us. 

There  was,  therefore,  unusual  excitement  at 
the  washing  pools  one  morning,  when  Fruc- 
tosa,  the  cheese-maker,  on  her  way  back  from 
taking  cheeses  to  the  Casa,  announced  that  the 
young  master  (as  even  we  free  villagers  called 
him)  had  been  married  in  Mexico  City  and 
was  bringing  home  his  bride. 


THE  VILLAGE  31 

"A  city  lady,  then !" 

"No  indeed,  from  across  the  water ;  Habana, 
I  think  they  call  it." 

"Not  a  Mexicana!" 

"No,  an  Andalusian,  they  say, — though  she 
is  proud,  too,  of  her  Aztec  blood;  they  say 
that  a  daughter  of  the  Emperor  Moctezuma 23 
was  one  of  her  ancestors." 

Question  and  reply  followed  swiftly,  until 
Fructosa's  small  store  of  knowledge  was  ex- 
hausted. The  Sefiorita  was  very  rich,  very 
beautiful,  very  pious,  and  very  young.  It  was 
in  this  way  that  I  first  heard  of  our  gracious 
Lady,  whom  God,  in  loving  kindness,  sent  to  us. 

The  few  days  remaining  before  the  home- 
coming of  the  bridal  couple  the  villages  em- 
ployed in  making  preparations  for  their  wel- 
come. To  this  end  messengers  passed  from 
one  cacique  to  another,  allotting  to  each  village 
its  proper  part  in  the  celebration.  As  we  were 
nearest  the  Casa,  it  fell  to  us  to  repair  the 
road  for  a  league  beyond  the  gate.  Other  vil- 
lages along  the  route  took  up  the  work  where 


32  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

we  left  it,  and  carried  it  to  the  confines  of  the 
estate.  An  arch  of  flowers  hid  the  gateway 
of  the  mansion.  In  the  kitchen  the  special  del- 
icacies of  each  locality  were  made  ready  for 
the  feast. 

At  length  a  hard-riding  courier,  flecked  with 
foam,  galloped  into  the  courtyard  with  the 
news  that  the  bride  and  groom  had  alighted 
from  the  train,  and  were  even  then  half  way 
home.  We  of  the  villages  poured  forth  to 
line  the  road.  Foremost  went  the  caciques 
and  their  councilors,  Grandfather  among 
them,  their  white  shirts  and  trousers  whiter 
than  their  hairs.  Then  came  the  younger  men 
in  new-washed  suits  and  the  women  in  clean 
chemises,  their  black  hair  braided  with  lilies. 
A  laughing  horde,  we  children  followed  with 
arms  heaped  high  with  flowers. 

Down  the  road  a  whirl  of  dust  resolved  it- 
self into  a  thundering  coach.  The  driver's 
whip  cracked  in  great  swirls  above  the  backs 
of  six  straining  mules ;  the  postilions  shouted 
At  a  signal  from  Ramon,  who  had  constituted 


THE  VILLAGE  33 

himself  our  leader,  we  threw  our  garlands  on 
the  highway.  Over  them  the  coach  rolled,  and 
on  into  the  courtyard.  So  Don  Luis  brought 
Dona  Marina  home. 

Perhaps  a  month  later,  Grandmother  and  I, 
busy  with  our  work,  were  startled  by  the  sight 
of  a  strange  boat  coming  close  inshore  along 
the  lake.  It  contained  three  people,  besides 
the  rowers,  who  gesticulated  freely  as  they 
scanned  the  water  front.  Presently  the  prow 
was  turned,  and  the  boat  came  alongside  our 
tiny  wharf.  From  it  stepped  Don  Luis,  Dona 
Marina,  and  an  older  gentleman  in  a  flowing 
brown  garb.  My  grandmother  immediately 
knelt,  pulling  me  down  beside  her,  and  the 
stranger,  making  the  sign  of  the  cross,  placed 
a  hand  on  our  heads  and  spoke  a  few  words  I 
could  not  understand.  Then  with  many  bows 
of  deference,  Grandmother  dusted  off  the 
seats  beneath  our  arbor  for  the  unexpected 
guests.  Dona  Marina  looked  about  her  with 
evident  delight.  There  could  have  been  noth- 
ing, from  the  rude  bee-hive  to  the  dried  pep- 


34  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

pers  hanging  in  the  gable,  that  escaped  her 
glancing  eyes.  When  she  looked  at  me  and 
smiled,  I  thought  that  even  the  Virgin  was  not 
so  beautiful  as  she. 

But  the  Priest — our  sainted  Padre  Fran- 
cisco, who  wras  in  truth  to  become  a  father  to 
us  fatherless  waifs — called  me  to  him. 

"Ninita,24  come  and  tell  me,  when  is  your 
name  day,"  he  said  in  his  kindly  voice. 

"I  have  none,  sir,"  I  replied. 

"But  that  is  not  possible;  every  one  has  a 
name  day.  How  many  years  old  are  you  ?" 

I  dug  my  bare  toes  hard  on  the  ground.  "I 
do  not  know,"  I  said. 

"What,  then,  are  you  called?"  he  continued. 

"Porfiria."  25 

"Porfiria,"  the  Sefiorita,  who  had  been  fol- 
lowing the  conversation  with  interest,  repeated. 
"It  is  a  name  that  belongs  fitly  to  autumn,  the 
loveliest  season  of  the  year." 

"You  are  right,"  said  the  Padre.  "Her 
name-day  would  fall  in  this  month." 

Don  Luis  whispered  to  his  wife,  and  the 


THE  VILLAGE  35 

three  rose  to  go.  But  when  the  Senorita  held 
out  her  hand  to  me,  I  took  it  shyly  and  walked 
with  them  along  the  beach  to  the  church. 

From  what  I  heard  then,  as  they  broke  away 
the  vines,  turned  the  rusty  key  in  the  lock,  and 
entered  the  bare  building,  I  was  not  surprised 
at  the  word  that  flew  about  our  little  plaza  that 
evening.  "There  will  be  mass  next  Sunday. 
All  children  should  be  brought  and  christened. 
Don  Luis  and  Dona  Marina  will  stand  god- 
father and  godmother  to  all." 

That  Saturday  there  was  not  a  moment, 
from  dawn  to  dusk,  when  the  washing  pools 
were  free.  Those  who  could  not  get  to  the  hot 
tank  used  the  cold.  Clothes  were  washed  and 
dried;  the  long  black  hair  of  our  women  was 
cleansed  and  combed,  and  in  laughing  bevies 
the  children  were  stripped  and  bathed. 

On  Sunday,  for  the  first  time  in  our  lives, 
Ramon  and  I  went  to  church.  The  bells  rang 
out  joyously  over  the  lake,  and  at  last  ceased 
their  jangling;  the  worshipers,  overflowing  the 
church  into  the  courtyard,  knelt  with  up- 


36  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

stretched  arms.  Within,  the  Bishop  of  Lerma, 
aided  by  Padre  Francisco,  intoned  the  mass. 
Afterwards,  in  groups  of  twenty-five  or  fifty, 
with  the  lighting  of  candles  and  the  laying  on 
of  hands,  the  christening  was  performed.  In 
some  cases,  so  long  was  it  since  a  priest  had 
visited  us,  whole  families  received  the  rite  to- 
gether. As  the  cross  was  placed  on  my  fore- 
head and  Padre  Francisco  baptized  me,  record- 
ing, as  it  were,  my  name  in  heaven,  I  looked  up 
to  Dona  Marina.  Beautiful,  compassionate, 
like  the  Madonna,  she  looked  down  and  blessed 
me.  From  that  moment  a  profound  emotion 
took  possession  of  me.  I  worshiped  her  who 
stood  thus  the  sponsor  of  my  soul. 


CHAPTER  III 

MY  foster-brother  Ramon  was  not  of  our 
village,  a  circumstance  which  I  have  al- 
ways thought  accounted  for  his  dexterity  in 
wood  carving  and  joinery.  We,  as  a  village, 
possessing  scanty  woodlands,  had  small  op- 
portunity of  acquiring  such  skill.  Be  that  as 
it  may,  my  grandfather  told  how  my  father 
had  found  Ramon,  almost  drowned,  in  a  skiff 
on  the  lake  after  a  storm,  and  had  brought  him 
home  for  my  mother  to  add  to  her  already 
large  family.  The  smallpox  which  visited  the 
village  shortly  afterward  carried  away  all  my 
family  except  my  grandparents  and  myself. 
As  a  matter  of  course,  my  grandfather  and 
grandmother  made  a  home  for  both  Ramon 
and  me. 

Ramon  had,  from  their  first  arrival,  taken 
a  great  interest  in  our  bees.     From  the  bee- 

37 


38  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

keeper  at  the  Casa  Grande,  he  learned  all  he 
could  of  their  habits  and  proper  care.  What- 
ever time  he  had — which  was  very  little,  he 
spent  in  the  apiary,  noting  how  the  empty 
boxes  were  prepared  for  the  hives,  and  the 
full  combs  taken  out.  Whenever  the  bee- 
keeper allowed,  he  helped  in  the  work.  It  nat- 
urally resulted  that  he  looked  with  increasing 
disfavor  on  my  poor  petate  skep.  He  deter- 
mined to  make  a  hive  of  wood  ready  for  the 
season's  swarm. 

Many  an  evening,  after  the  day's  work  was 
done,  Grandfather,  Grandmother  and  I  sat 
and  watched  him  fashion  it  from  the  packing 
boxes  the  kind-hearted  bee-keeper  had  allowed 
him  to  use.  He  had  no  tools  but  a  knife  and 
a  hatchet,  but  his  clever  fingers  made  the  most 
of  these. 

"Ay  de  mi!" 26  Grandfather  sometimes 
sighed,  looking  with  admiration  on  the 
smoothed  surfaces  and  the  well  doweled  sides 
which  the  boy's  patient  labor  produced,  "would 
that  I  were  a  younger  man,  my  son.  Then  I 


THE  VILLAGE  39 

could  spare  you  to  be  taught  a  trade,  and  so 
you  would  not  live  to  be  a  poor  old  fisherman 
like  me!" 

Ramon  laughed,  a  bright,  courageous  laugh, 
as  if,  I  thought,  he  could  do  anything.  Then 
he  wrapped  Grandfather's  worn  sarape 27 
closer  to  protect  him  from  the  night  wind,  and 
bent  to  kiss  Grandmother  on  each  cheek. 

Our  gloamings  were  brief,  and  there  was  lit- 
tle time  between  daylight  and  starlight  for 
work.  But  the  month  of  October  that  year 
was  unusual  in  that  Colima  became  suddenly 
active.  By  day  heavy  funnels  of  smoke  curled 
upward  above  the  horizon;  by  night  the  glow 
of  her  hidden  furnaces  turned  them  to  pillars 
of  fire.  Used,  as  we  were,  to  occasional  erup- 
tions, we  did  not  feel  much  fear.  Ramon 
called  the  fiery  cone  his  torch,  and  worked 
late  in  the  weird  glow. 

Yet  a  shimmering  heat  seemed  to  pervade 
the  air,  very  different  from  the  fresh  clearness 
which  by  right  belongs  to  this  season.  So 
pronounced  was  this  one  morning  that  it  was 


40  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

with  an  undefined  foreboding  that  I  set  out 
with  Ramon  for  the  springs  from  which  we 
were  now  old  enough  and  strong  enough  to 
bring  the  water  for  the  household,  thus  reliev- 
ing dear  Grandmother  somewhat.  I  remem- 
ber looking  back  as  we  went  up  the  village 
street,  to  catch  one  more,  glimpse  of  our  cot- 
tage, and  of  Grandmother  in  the  doorway,  be- 
fore the  trunk  of  the  mango  tree  hid  them  from 
my  sight. 

As  we  filled  our  jars  at  the  springs,  the  as- 
pect of  the  day  became  more  terrible.  From 
here  could  be  seen  the  actual  belching  forth 
from  the  volcano  of  the  great  clouds  of  smoke. 
The  light  of  the  sun  spread  over  the  heavens 
like  a  dome  of  brass.  Beneath  it,  the  earth 
seemed  to  melt  with  heat  into  a  flaming  lake. 
Terrified  by  the  spectacle,  Ramon  and  I  turned 
to  run  back  to  the  shore.  The  girls  drawing 
water  had  the  same  impulse.  "To  the  hills, 
to  the  hills,"  they  cried,  thinking  to  rouse  the 
unconscious  village  to  its  danger.  But  their 
weak  voices  at  best  could  not  have  reached  its 


THE  VILLAGE  41 

outskirts;  a  horrible  rumbling  drowned  them. 
"El  temblor,28  el  temblor,"  some  one  shrieked. 
Earth  and  sky  heaved  together  and  bereft  us  of 
consciousness. 

When  I  came  to  myself  again,  Ramon  still 
lay  senseless  beside  me.  I  struggled  to  the 
edge  of  the  spring  and  dipped  in  my  jar  to 
bring  him  water.  But  I  drew  it  up  empty. 
The  springs  were  dry!  Gradually  Ramon  re- 
turned to  consciousness,  and  together  we  made 
our  way  to  the  village.  The  confusion  there 
was  terrible.  We  ran  through  the  cluttered 
streets  almost  unseeing,  our  thoughts  busy 
with  what  we  would  find  on  the  shore.  At 
length  the  top  of  the  mango  tree  came  into 
sight.  A  few  steps  more,  and  we  would  know 
whether  the  hut  still  stood.  Ramon,  who  was 
in  the  lead,  stopped  suddenly,  shading  his  eyes 
with  his  hand.  The  lake  water  lapped  angrily 
at  our  very  feet;  as  we  looked,  we  could  see 
the  towers  of  the  church  and  the  tree-top  rising 
above  it.  But  the  cottage  had  been  engulfed. 

By  the  time  Don  Luis  and  Padre  Francisco 


42  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

could  reach  our  stricken  village,  the  lake  had 
receded,  and  the  springs  had  resumed  their 
flow.  So  sudden  and  so  brief  was  our  catas- 
trophe. But  to  others  besides  Ramon  and  me 
it  was  also  most  complete.  The  evidences  of  it 
were  on  every  side,  trees  cleft  asunder,  houses 
thrown  down ;  women  and  children  crying,  and 
others  dry-eyed,  still  looking  up  and  down  the 
lake  for  the  fishermen  who  would  never  re- 
turn. 

Among  all  our  neighbors,  however,  we  were 
the  most  bereft,  orphaned  for  a  second  time, 
and  homeless.  In  spite  of  their  own  distress, 
they  did  not  forget  us,  but  tried  to  comfort  us 
with  food  and  shelter.  Yet  I  can  remember 
nothing  clearly  until  Dona  Marina  came.  It 
pleased  her  to  be  particularly  touched  by  our 
misfortunes,  so  much  so  that  she  insisted  upon 
riding  down  herself  from  the  hacienda,  and 
taking  us  home  with  her. 

Ramon  and  I  were  both  too  dazed  to  wonder 
much  at  this  temporary  solution  of  our  diffi- 
culties. Our  gracious  Senorita  took  entire 


THE  VILLAGE  43 

charge  of  us,  and  when  bedtime  came  tucked 
us,  with  her  own  hands,  into  such  beds  as  we 
had  never  dreamed  of.  Then  softly  she  said 
the  Pater  Noster  and  many  other  prayers. 
The  tones  of  her  voice,  her  presence,  which 
seemed  to  us  to  belong  to  that  heaven  to  which 
our  beloved  grandparents  had  been  snatched, 
soothed  our  sorrows.  Listening,  we  fell  asleep. 
The  following  Sunday  Padre  Francisco  per- 
formed mass  for  the  souls  of  all  those  who  had 
met  with  sudden  death.  As  the  church  had 
been  rendered  unsafe,  this  service  was  held  on 
the  shore.  There,  within  a  stone's  throw  of  the 
spot  from  which  our  grandparents  had  been 
swept  away,  Ramon  and  I  listened  to  their  re- 
quiem. The  lake  smiled  and  rippled  at  our  feet, 
but  it  never  gave  up  its  dead.  At  the  close  of 
the  mass,  the  cacique  and  others  who  had  been 
our  friends  from  generation  to  generation,  as 
they  put  it,  came  up  one  by  one  to  offer  testi- 
mony to  the  simple  goodness  of  my  grandfather 
and  grandmother.  I  began  to  understand  what 
Don  Luis  meant  on  the  day  when  Grandfather 


44  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

first  took  us  to  the  Casa  to  return  the  swarm- 
ing bees.  In  truth,  though  penniless,  we  had 
a  goodly  heritage. 

Life  at  the  Casa,  with  its  diverse  interests, 
ere  long  dulled  the  loneliness  of  our  hearts. 
Ramon  was  given  regular  work  in  the  bee- 
yard,  and  I  too  had  my  daily  task,  in  the 
Senorita's  flower  garden,  the  weeding  and 
watering  of  which  became  my  care.  In  the 
cool  of  morning  and  evening  she  used  often  to 
sit  or  stroll  there,  sometimes  calling  me  to  her 
side,  sometimes  talking  with  the  Padre  as  they 
paced  the  fragrant  paths.  Don  Luis,  always 
busy,  always,  as  I  remember  him,  on  horse- 
back galloping  to  the  inspection  of  some  part 
of  the  hacienda,  was  little  at  home.  The  man- 
agement of  the  portion  of  his  estate  imme- 
diately surrounding  the  Casa,  as  even  I  could 
see,  was  left  chiefly  in  the  hands  of  his  trusted 
administrador. 

Grizzle-haired,  keen-eyed,  half  Indian,  half 
Spanish,  Lucio  Almonte  seemed  fitted  by  birth 
and  experience  for  his  position.  Yet  his  smile 


THE  VILLAGE  45 

to  me  hid  something  sinister,  like  the  smiling 
lake.  I  always  pictured  him  as  I  became  used 
to  seeing  him  on  the  nights  when  the  hands 
were  paid  off.  The  flare  of  candles  fell  on 
piles  of  silver  coin  heaped  up  on  the  deal  table 
behind  which  he  sat,  leaving  his  face  in  shadow. 
One  by  one  the  white-clad  workers,  with  their 
steeple  hats  in  their  hands,  came  forward  from 
the  long  line  in  the  courtyard,  at  his  call. 

"Anastasio!"  The  vaquero  **  stepped  up. 

"Five  days  you  have  worked,  being  drunk 
the  day  after  the  fiesta  of  San  Juan.  You  also 
bought  of  me  two  mangoes.  This  leaves  one 
peso  30  and  ninety-five  centavos 31  due  you." 

The  money  clinked  into  Anastasio's  hand 
and  he  moved  aside  to  count  it.  So  through 
the  long  line  the  administrador  went,  never  at 
fault  for  a  name  or  a  reckoning. 

One  morning  in  the  Christmas  holidays, 
when  Don  Luis  and  Dona  Marina  were  absent 
in  the  city  and  the  house  seemed  intolerably 
lonely,  I  followed  Ramon  into  the  apiary.  The 
orange  trees  under  which  the  hives  were  placed 


46  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

were  in  flower.  As  I  watched  the  tiny  honey 
gatherers,  and  the  bright-colored  humming- 
birds which  flitted  with  them  about  the  fra- 
grant trees,  my  mind  went  back  to  our  home 
on  the  lake  shore  where  bees  and  birds  to- 
gether used  to  hover  about  the  trumpet  vine. 

"Ramon,"  said  I  suddenly,  "do  you  remem- 
ber the  story  the  Padre  told  us  yesterday  about 
San  Francisco  and  the  blessed  birds  ?" 

"Yes,"  said  Ramon.  "He  was  explaining 
why  Don  Luis's  ancestor  named  this  estate 
the  Hacienda  de  los  Pajaritos  Santos,32  and 
why  we  must  be  kind  to  his  birds." 

"Yes,"  I  persisted,  "but  did  he  not  say  the 
birds  have  souls?" 

"I  think  so." 

"Then  why  do  not  the  bees,  so  intelligent,  so 
industrious,  also  have  souls?" 

"Perhaps  they  may  have,  little  sister,  who 
knows  ?" 

The  next  time  Padre  Francisco  walked  in  the 
garden,  I  made  bold  to  ask  him. 


THE  VILLAGE  47 

He  stopped  abruptly.  "Why  do  you  ask, 
ninita?" 

"Because  of  our  poor  bees  who  were 
drowned.  They  worked  like  us.  Sometimes 
I  think  of  them  as  a  village  like  ours.  And 
just  as  our  workers  came  home  from  the  fields 
and  the  pastures  that  day,  so  they  too  came 
home  to  find  themselves  homeless  and  their 
kindred  dead." 

Padre  Francisco  looked  at  me  quite  a  long 
time  in  silence.  "Of  one  thing,  Porfiria,  we 
may  at  least  be  sure,"  he  replied  at  length, 
"that  our  Father,  who  made  them,  fulfills  in 
them  his  purpose.  And  his  purpose  toward 
all  his  creatures  is  love." 


CHAPTER  IV 

AT  the  Hacienda  de  los  Pajaritos  Santos, 
as  the  days  went  by,  it  became  increas- 
ingly easy  to  believe  in  a  law  of  love.  Love 
tempered  with  justice,  perhaps,  as  personified 
in  the  strictness  of  Lucio  Almonte,  but  love 
overflowing  in  compassion  from  the  heart  of 
Senorita  Marina  and  bearing  fruit  in  good 
works.  It  became  more  and  more  the  habit 
of  Padre  Francisco  to  accompany  Don  Luis  in 
his  rides  about  the  estate.  In  the  evening,  on 
the  cool  balcony  or  in  the  garden,  his  voice 
could  be  heard  in  earnest  conversation  inter- 
mingled with  the  voices  of  Dona  Marina  and 
Don  Luis.  Lola,  the  Sefiorita's  Cuban  maid, 
passing  noiselessly  about  the  house  in  her  bare 
feet,  brought  reports  of  wonderful  plans  under 
discussion  for  the  betterment  of  the  villages, 

— teachers,  schools,  doctors  and  agricultural 

48 


THE  VILLAGE  49 

improvements.  All  this  for  the  benefit  of  the 
peones,  who  were  Don  Luis's  property;  as 
much  his  property  as  the  oxen,  the  sheep,  the 
horses  and  the  vast  lands  he  owned. 

"But  why?"  questioned  the  cook.  "For 
what  purpose,  for  whose  profit,  is  this  to  be 
done?" 

Lola  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "The  Padre 
says  it  is  for  the  love  of  God;  the  Sefiorita 
says  it  is  for  the  love  of  the  people,  and  Don 
Luis — Name  of  God!  how  he  loves  her!  He 
said  last  night  he  was  willing  to  spend  up  to 
a  million  pesos.  A  million  pesos,  think  of  it, 
to  please  her!" 

A  beginning,  indeed,  of  these  improvements 
we  could  see  in  our  own  village,  over  which,  in 
spite  of  its  freedom,  the  hacendado  33  had  al- 
ways exercised  a  more  or  less  kindly  care.  It 
was  from  Don  Luis's  coffers  that  the  repairs 
to  the  church  after  the  earthquake  were  made, 
and  his  endowment  of  it  that  defrayed  the  ex- 
penses of  marriages,  baptisms,  and  deaths. 
How  great  a  benefaction  this  alone  was,  I  only 


50  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

came  to  know  lately,  in  hearing  of  the  many, 
many  estates  where  my  poor  Indian  kindred 
lived  and  died  without  these  sacraments,  sim- 
ply for  lack  of  the  tithe  that  Holy  Church  re- 
quires. The  rebuilding  of  the  church  was  fol- 
lowed by  the  erection  of  an  adobe  schoolhouse 
adjoining  it.  The  festivities  of  Easter,  for 
which  the  Bishop  of  the  diocese  again  came 
among  us,  culminated  in  the  opening  of  this 
school.  For  the  first  time  in  the  history  of 
the  village,  its  children  were  to  be  taught ! 

It  had  doubtless  been  the  purpose  of  the 
Sefiorita,  when  she  took  us  to  the  Casa,  to  re- 
turn us  ultimately  to  our  natural  place  in  the 
village.  The  school,  the  church,  the  stirring 
ambition  of  the  hamlet,  which  already  showed 
itself  in  doing  away  with  cockfights,  and  in  less 
frequent  carousals,  would  have  made  her  con- 
science easy  on  our  account.  But  a  most 
propitious  event  delayed  the  carrying  out  of 
this  plan.  In  the  early  summer,  her  little  son 
was  born. 

The  rejoicing  at  the  Casa  was  reflected  in 


THE  VILLAGE  51 

the  village,  where  an  impromptu  fiesta  was 
held.  To  this  Ramon  and  I,  and  such  others 
of  the  household  as  could  be  spared,  went 
down,  carrying  with  us  on  burros  34  Don  Luis's 
contribution  to  our  merrymaking  in  the  shape 
of  a  generous  sack  of  tobacco  and  a  cask  of 
wine.  A  pretty  sight  greeted  us  as  we  wound 
down  the  hill.  Around  the  edge  of  the  plaza, 
in  the  shade  of  the  pepper  trees,  the  older  folks 
and  the  children  sat  in  an  irregular  circle,  while 
the  center  was  filled  with  dancers.  The  music 
of  flute  and  violin  reached  us  tantalizingly. 
Breathless  with  excitement,  we  joined  the 
merriment. 

The  cacique's  son  led  the  men,  the  goat- 
herd's daughter  the  maidens.  Backward  and 
forward  the  two  lines  swayed  to  the  music, 
now  fast,  now  slow.  Occasionally  an  old  man 
leaned  forward  to  prompt  the  leaders  sharply, 
for  this  was  the  ancient  dance  of  our  people, 
handed  down  "from  the  time  of  the  gods." 
With  bows  and  gestures  and  the  dovetailing 
of  partners,  the  figures  melted  one  into 


52  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

another,  till  the  rhythm  was  caught  by  the 
spectators,    who    swayed    and    clapped    their 
hands.     Suddenly  each  maiden  broke  over  the 
head  of  her  partner  a  colored  egg,  which  she 
had  concealed  in  her  hand.     A  bright  shower 
of  confetti  fell  with  the  broken  shells.     In- 
stantly the  dance  resolved  itself  into  a  general 
romp  of  flying  egg  shells  and  dodging  heads. 
The  dance  was  succeeded  by  fire-crackers, 
and  they,  in  the  evening,  by  fireworks.     These 
last  the  farrier  and  the  carpenter  had  been 
months  in  devising,  in  anticipation  of  the  great 
event.     As   an  ornamental   frame,  bound  in 
variegated  tissue  paper,  their  handiwork  had 
already  formed  the  pivot  of  the  dance.     A 
touch  of  the  match  transformed  it.     It  became 
a  pine  tree,  with  needles  of  fire;  it  rained 
rockets ;  it  suffused  village  and  lake  with  lights 
like  the  breast  of  a  humming-bird.     For  half 
an  hour,  without  mischance,  it  was  a  dream  of 
beauty.     And  when  at  last  it  flickered  out,  it 
gave  place  to  an  even  lovelier  and  more  lasting 
picture, — the   church,   illuminated  with  pitch 


THE  VILLAGE  53 

pine  torches'  from  the  ground  to  the  apex  of 
each  tower.  In  some  such  way,  in  every 
village  on  Don  Luis's  land,  the  birth  of  the 
master's  heir  was  hailed. 

Several  days  later  I  was  summoned  by  Lola, 
somewhat  sourly,  into  the  Senorita's  chamber. 

"Mind  you  that  you  step  lightly  and  say 
nothing,"  she  admonished  me  as  she  led  the 
way,  muttering  all  the  while  at  the  Senorita's 
strange  fancy  in  sending  for  me. 

The  Senorita  lay  in  ripples  of  rich  lace  and 
ribbons.  Smiling,  she  drew  aside  the  cover- 
let till  I  could  see  the  soft  dark  hair  and  the 
long  motionless  lashes  of  the  baby  asleep 
against  her  arm.  From  that  moment,  the 
picture  of  my  Madonna  was  complete.  I  knelt 
and  kissed  her  hand. 

Little  Felix  was  happily  named;  a  sunnier 
baby  never  lived.  He  soon  took  an  immense 
delight  in  everything,  with  gurgles  and  shouts 
of  joy.  As  he  grew,  his  toddling  feet  carried 
him  everywhere,  into  the  garden  among  the 
flowers,  into  the  kitchen,  and  into  the  court- 


54  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

yard,  where  he  was  in  real  danger  of  being 
trampled  by  restless  horses  and  mules.  Lola 
was  his  nurse,  but  he  seemed  to  have  no  great 
attachment  for  her.  To  his  mind,  perhaps, 
she  constituted  an  authority  from  which  he 
took  every  opportunity  of  running  away. 
With  me,  on  the  contrary,  he  spent  hour  after 
hour,  or  rode  about  the  bee-yard  on  Ramon's 
shoulder,  as  gracious  a  little  tyrant  as  ever 
owned  two  very  willing  slaves.  Those  were 
perfect  days;  we  had  found  our  place  in  the 
world  and  there  seemed  no  more  thought  of 
returning  us  to  the  village.  Don  Luis  and 
Dona  Marina  looked  with  approval  on  our 
devotion.  But  Lola  showed  her  jealousy  in 
many  spiteful  ways. 

Out  of  her  spite  grew  my  separation  from 
my  beloved  brother  Ramon.  It  was  not  to  be 
supposed  that  his  work  in  the  apiary  would 
wean  him  away  from  his  passion  for  whittling 
anything  in  the  shape  of  wood  on  which  he 
could  lay  his  hands.  The  making  of  flutes  and 


THE  VILLAGE  55 

shepherds'  pipes  interested  him  more  than  the 
making  of  hives;  and  the  bee-keeper,  who 
came  from  our  village,  humored  him  in  his 
bent. 

One  morning,  instead  of  going  the  rounds 
of  the  hives,  Ramon  yielded  to  the  sudden 
temptation  of  carving  a  wooden  doll  for  the 
little  master,  with  which  to  surprise  him  when 
he  should  appear.  I  heard  him  stirring  at 
dawn,  and  hurried  into  my  clothes  to  join  him. 
He  worked  with  quick,  sure  strokes,  and  I, 
who  entered  with  zest  into  the  plan,  sat  beside 
him  and  sewed  on  the  tiny  pantalones 35  and 
jacket  which  were  to  adorn  our  caballero  3e 
when  done. 

We  were  startled  by  Lola's  voice.  "See  for 
yourself;  there  they  are,  the  shameless  ones." 

The  administrador  was  behind  her.  'This 
is  what  comes  of  spoiling  the  peasants,"  said 
he  angrily.  "And  now  who  do  you  suppose, 
my  fine  gentleman,  is  going  to  pay  for  the  three 
hives  of  Don  Luis's  bees  that  have  swarmed 


56  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

this  morning — gone — pouf — like  that."  He 
puffed  out  his  ugly  lips  and  made  an  airy 
gesture  toward  the  lake. 

Ramon  was  dumbfounded.  "But  it  is  yet 
early,"  he  protested.  "I  worked  while  I 
waited  for  the  bell." 

"Early — bell,"  repeated  Senor  Almonte,  in 
concentrated  scorn.  "The  sun  dial  stands  at 
eleven.  Liar!"  And  with  that  he  haled 
Ramon  away.  A  few  minutes  later  he  jangled 
across  the  courtyard  with  a  bunch  of  heavy 
keys. 

Ramon  had  been  put  in  prison.  I  could 
hardly  believe  such  a  thing  possible,  nor  under- 
stand why  I,  equally  guilty,  was  still  at  large. 
I  looked  all  about  the  flower  garden,  in  which 
we  had  been  sitting,  but  saw  no  trace  of  Lola, 
our  accuser.  In  fact,  when  I  did  meet  her 
later  in  the  day,  she  seemed  quite  as  usual, 
neither  more  nor  less  disagreeable.  I  gathered 
up  the  poor  doll  and  Ramon's  knife  and  the 
scraps  of  cotton  cloth  which  I  had  been  sewing, 
and  hid  them  in  my  room. 


THE  VILLAGE  57 

Naturally,  nothing  went  well  with  me  that 
day.  Don  Luis,  Dona  Marina  and  the  Padre 
were  all  away.  Lola  kept  Felix  with  her  on 
the  balcony.  From  the  garden,  where  I  up- 
rooted as  many  flowers  as  weeds,  I  could  hear 
him  fretting,  calling,  now  for  'Firia,  and  now 
for  his  Ramon.  Once  I  heard  Lola  slap  him. 
The  sound  of  his  crying  made  me  sick. 

At  length  Lola  became  alarmed  and  came  to 
get  me.  But  by  that  time,  Felix  had  worried 
himself  into  a  fever,  and  could  not  be  quieted. 
He  wrung  my  heart  with  his  pitiful  pleadings 
for  Ramon.  Ramon  knew  where  the  water 
was  cold,  and  Ramon  would  play  for  him. 
Where  was  Ramon? 

Such  was  the  state  of  affairs  when  Dona 
Marina  came  home.  Attracted  by  the  un- 
usual crying  of  the  child,  she  ran  directly  up- 
stairs. 

"Felix,  Lola,  what  is  the  matter?" 

Felix  stretched  out  his  arms,  and  she 
gathered  him  quickly  to  her. 

"Tell  me,  Lola,  what  is  it?    The  child  is 


58  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

sick."  She  passed  her  hand  over  his  hot  head 
and  felt  his  uneven  pulse. 

"Of  course  he  is  sick,"  Lola  flung  back. 
"What  can  you  expect  when  you  trust  him  to 
such  children?  I  found  Porfiria  here  feeding 
him  with  unripe  grapes.  That's  what  is  the 
matter."  And  she  flounced  out  of  the  room. 

The  impudence  of  Lola's  manner,  as  well 
as  her  speech,  must  have  been  lost  on  Dona 
Marina,  who  in  truth  was  well-nigh  distracted. 
She  turned  on  me  a  look  that  struck  me  dumb. 
I  could  neither  have  denied  nor  affirmed  any- 
thing; like  a  trapped  thing,  I  in  turn  looked  at 
her. 

Then  from  a  far-off  place,  I  heard  Don 
Luis's  voice.  "Tell  me,  Porfiria,  is  that 
true?" 

Something  in  the  quality  of  his  tone,  quiet 
and  reasonable,  seemed  to  unlock  my  gaze.  I 
raised  my  eyes  to  his.  "It  is  not  true,"  I  said. 

By  this  time  Felix  had  resumed  his  moaning, 
repeating  over  and  over  again  the  name  of 
Ramon. 


THE  VILLAGE  59 

"Can  you  answer  me  very  quietly,  child?" 
continued  Don  Luis.  "Where  is  Ramon?" 

I  could  be  quiet;  my  misery  was  too  deep 
for  tears.  "He  is  in  prison,"  I  said. 

"In  prison!     Why?" 

So  the  whole  wretched  story  came  out. 

When  I  had  finished,  Don  Luis  left  the 
room  without  a  word.  But  in  a  few  min- 
utes he  reappeared,  and  with  him  came  Ra- 
mon. 

After  supper,  while  Felix  was  being  hushed 
to  sleep  with  the  crooning  lullabies  that  Ramon 
loved  to  sing,  Don  Luis  asked  me  to  fetch  the 
doll.  He  and  Dona  Marina  had  a  friend  with 
them  in  the  sala*7  besides  the  Padre,  a  stranger 
from  the  city  of  Lerma,  I  understood.  This 
gentleman  took  a  particularly  keen  interest  in 
Ramon's  carving. 

"Is  this  the  boy's  first  work?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  no,"  I  answered.  "He  makes  bee- 
hives." 

"Nothing  else?" 

"Flutes,"  I  said  hesitantly,  remembering  of 


60  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

a  sudden  that  Ramon  had  sworn  me  to  secrecy 
on  this  point,  ".  .  .  and  shepherds'  pipes." 

"Bring  them." 

One  after  another,  the  stranger  tried  them, 
noting  by  the  carefully  inserted  plugs,  how 
the  errors  in  scale  had  been  corrected.  The 
mellow  wood  notes  rang  out  through  the  room. 

Presently  he  laid  them  all  down  with  a  bang 
on  the  table.  "For  Dios,58  that  boy  is  a  genius. 
Hives  indeed!  Don  Luis,  you  must  give  the 
lad  to  me." 

Then  it  transpired  that  the  stranger  was  a 
maker  of  music,  and  of  musical  instruments 
as  well.  He  wished  to  take  Ramon  and  teach 
him  the  secrets  of  that  master-craft.  Ramon 
was  summoned,  looking,  I  thought,  very 
straightforward  and  handsome  as  he  modestly 
answered  Don  Luis's  questions.  It  was 
quickly  arranged  that  he  should  accompany 
Senor  Perez  to  Lerma  on  the  latter's  return 
from  the  hunting  trip  on  which  he  was  then 
bound. 


THE  VILLAGE 


61 


Ramon  was  in  heaven  with  happiness.  But 
I — after  the  many  surprises  of  the  day,  it  was 
impossible  for  me  to  feel  more. 


CHAPTER  V 

LOLA'S  spite  perpetuated  itself  not  alone 
in  Ramon's  good  fortune,  but  in  another 
change,  equally  momentous  for  me.  She  was 
dismissed  and  I  became  little  Felix's  nurse  in 
her  stead.  It  was  only  the  sweet  care  of  him, 
I  think,  that  kept  me  from  dying  of  grief  after 
Ramon  went  away.  Felix  was  then  two  years 
old,  that  most  charming  age  of  childhood  when 
a  baby's  heart  wakes  to  conscious  love,  and  his 
little  hands  cling  like  delicate  tendrils  about 
their  chosen  support.  So  Felix  clung  to  me. 

My  relations  with  the  family  in  this  way 
became  much  more  intimate.  Felix  would 
scarcely  let  me  out  of  his  sight.  Though  his 
affections  went  out  to  everybody,  I  was  his 
little  mother  and  his  playmate  as  well.  I  had 
a  double  incentive  then  to  make  the  most  of  the 

opportunity   for   improvement   given   to   me. 

62 


THE  VILLAGE  63 

Each  morning,  as  Felix's  sweet  prattle  woke 
me,  and  each  night  as  he  said  his  little  prayers, 
I  prayed  also  to  be  made  worthy  of  him  and 
of  Ramon. 

The  Padre  took  a  great  interest  in  me  from 
this  time  on,  instructing  me  in  many  things. 
Every  day  at  Felix's  nap  time  I  had  my  lessons 
with  him.  Thus  I  learned  to  read  and  write 
and  count.  I  became  proficient  in  the  lives  of 
the  Saints,  and  in  the  doctrines  of  Holy 
Church.  In  secular  history  also  I  was 
instructed,  particularly  in  that  which  imme- 
diately affected  our  unhappy  country.  For  in 
Padre  Francisco's  unworldly  eyes,  our  country 
was  equally  unhappy  whether  under  the  rule  of 
the  Spanish  vireyes89  who  for  over  four 
hundred  years  enriched  themselves  and  the 
mother  country  at  our  expense,  or  under  the 
latest  so-called  republican  government  of  our 
President,  Porfirio  Diaz. 

"Look  you,"  said  he,  "even  in  this  favored 
Hacienda  de  los  Pajaritos  Santos,  at  the  con- 
dition of  your  kindred.  Do  they,  who  used 


64  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

to  own  the  soil,  reap  what  they  sow? 
Churches  they  have,  and  schools,  and  a  kind 
overlord  in  Don  Luis.  But  when  you  are  older 
and  have  seen,  as  I  have,  the  terrible  abuses 
on  other  haciendas,  the  pitiful  wages,  the 
uncared  for  ignorance,  the  stores  of  the 
hacendados  where  the  wretched  peones  are 
actually  encouraged  to  spend  what  little  they 
have  for  pulque™  and  worse, — then  you  will 
see  that  the  system  is  wrong.  The  good  will 
of  a  hundred  like  Don  Luis — and  alas,  I  know 
of  none  other — can  never  make  it  right.  It  is 
a  system  of  privilege,  the  enslaving  of  a  nation 
for  the  enriching  of  its  alien  conquerors. 

"It  matters  not  whether  these  conquerors 
were  the  Spaniards  who  first  seized  your  lands, 
or  the  latest  American,  English  or  German 
investors  whose  money,  they  say,  has  built  the 
railways,  the  mighty  power  works,  and  the 
mills  which  are  developing  the  country. 
Developing  it  for  whom?  You,  or  them- 
selves? I  tell  you  it  is  you,  peones,  burden- 
bearers,  serfs,  who  have  paid  for  your  develop- 


THE  VILLAGE  65 

ment  with  the  sweat  of  agony,  and  with  your 
immortal  souls. 

"The  remedy,"  Padre  Francisco  continued 
more  quietly,  "lies  in  your  own  hands.  More 
than  a  hundred  years  ago,  the  sainted  priest 
Hidalgo  voiced  it  at  Dolores  among  his  poor 
parishioners.  The  bells  had  rung  for  mass, 
and  by  the  light  of  candles  the  peones  were 
assembled  in  the  church.  But  Padre  Hidalgo 
did  not  celebrate  mass  that  morning.  The 
words  he  spoke  from  the  altar  instead  have 
been  the  battle  cry  of  your  liberties  in  the 
almost  continuous  warfares  of  four  genera- 
tions. Their  inspiration,  as  ever,  came  from 
the  oppression  of  the  poor. 

"  'My  children/  said  Padre  Hidalgo  to  his 
kneeling  Indians,  'this  day  comes  to  us  a  new 
dispensation.  Are  you  ready  to  receive  it? 
Will  you  be  free?  Will  you  make  the  effort 
to  recover  the  lands  stolen  from  your  fathers 
three  hundred  years  ago  ?' 

"In  these  words  the  patriot-priest  voiced  the 
Grito  de  Dolores;  in  truth  a  cry  of  sorrows, 


66  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

which  echoed,  and  still  echoes,  through  the 
land. 

"Hidalgo  led  his  untrained  peasants  from 
victory  to  victory,  only  to  become  at  last  a 
fugitive  and  to  die  a  traitor's  death.  Many, 
some  false  prophets  and  some  true,  have 
followed  in  his  footsteps,  each  to  his  untimely 
end.  But  at  least  one  enormous  evil  their 
blood  has  washed  away;  the  Church,  which 
should  have  been  your  savior,  no  longer  cor- 
rupts in  the  high  places  nor  battens  in  luxu- 
rious livings  on  your  miseries  and  shames. 
Over  fifty  years  have  passed  since  it  was  dis- 
established, and  its  holdings  confiscated  by  the 
State.  True,  its  disestablishment,  which 
should  have  gone  to  enrich  your  people,  has 
enriched  only  the  Government  that  in  the  name 
of  liberty  continues  to  oppress  you.  But, 
mark  well  my  words,  Porfiria,  this  Govern- 
ment, which  seems  so  firmly  established,  it  also 
will  fall." 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  I  understood 
all  that  Padre  Francisco  said.  Indeed  at  times 


THE  VILLAGE  67 

he  talked  more  to  himself  than  to  me,  as  if  he 
found  relief  for  his  pent  up  convictions  in 
words  as  well  as  in  deeds.  But  the  fire  of  his 
eloquence  stirred  to  life  those  more  ancient 
fires  in  my  blood  which  my  grandfather  had 
fostered  in  his  lifetime.  They  gave  me  a  con- 
ception of  patriotism  which  extended  beyond 
our  village,  beyond  our  tribe,  to  embrace  all 
the  downtrodden  Indian  races  in  one  vast 
brotherhood.  Alas!  had  our  forefathers  felt 
this  kinship,  the  Spaniards  would  never  have 
conquered  us !  It  was  a  bitter  lesson  to  learn 
from  Padre  Francisco  that  Hernando  Cortes, 
the  Conquistador,41  made  use  of  the  hatred  of 
one  tribe  against  another,  so  that  we  ourselves 
became  the  tools  of  our  destruction.  Only  in 
this  way,  by  our  help,  were  his  victories  won, 
and  the  mighty  empires  of  Moctezuma  and  his 
allies  given  to  the  King  of  Spain.  And  it  was 
a  bitterer  lesson  to  learn  also  that  the  same 
spirit  of  dissension,  of  self  interest,  and  pro- 
vincialism had  betrayed  us  again  and  again  into 
the  hands  of  now  this  conquistador  and  now 


68  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

that  in  the  political  wars  of  the  last  hundred 
years. 

Porfirio  Diaz,  our  latest  ruler,  had  been,  like 
most  of  the  others,  the  hope  of  the  Indians. 
Himself  one  of  the  common  people,  Indian 
blood  ran  in  his  veins.  He  promised  fairly, 
and  he  had  already  in  the  thirty  years  of  his 
power  raised  Mexico  from  bankruptcy  to  a 
place  of  honor  among  the  nations,  but  he  left 
his  brothers  still  landless,  ignorant  and  abused. 
Now  in  his  old  age,  it  was  said  that  his  coun- 
cilors, hoodwinking  him,  sought  only  to  enrich 
themselves.  Year  after  year,  the  empty  form 
of  a  popular  election  returned  them,  and  him, 
to  power.  His  political  opponents  were  ban- 
ished or  perchance  killed,  or,  as  had  happened 
to  a  certain  Sefior  Madero  who  had  tried  to 
stand  for  election  recently,  thrust  into  jail. 
Darker  charges  than  these  were  whispered 
against  our  President,  even  in  our  remote 
hacienda;  charges  which  I  lived  to  see  cruelly 
verified. 

Still,  as  Padre  Francisco  himself  pointed 


THE  VILLAGE  69 

out,  peace  in  itself  was  a  great  boon ;  and  peace 
President  Diaz  had  maintained  with  the  strong 
help  of  the  army  and  of  his  mounted  police. 
Where  the  rights  of  the  peones  to  decent  living 
were  respected  as  on  our  hacienda  under  Don 
Luis,  happiness  was  added  to  peace.  With 
Padre  Francisco  going  from  village  to  village, 
carrying  out  the  Rules  of  his  Order  to  succor 
the  poor,— oh,  how  different  from  those  of 
some  other  Orders  professing  to  follow  Our 
Lord! — the  Hacienda  de  los  Pajaritos  Santos 
seemed  an  earthly  paradise. 

Into  this  paradise  the  serpent  entered. 
Senior  Almonte,  the  administrador,  was  in  the 
habit  of  going  with  more  or  less  frequency  to 
the  city  of  Lerma,  on  business  connected  with 
the  marketing  of  Don  Luis's  crops.  In  this 
way,  though  to  be  sure  very  grudgingly,  he 
enabled  us  to  keep  in  touch  with  Ramon.  He 
was,  in  fact,  Don  Luis's  most  constant  avenue 
of  communication  with  the  outside  world. 
Often  he  brought  back  with  him,  from  the 
city,  guests  of  his  own  who  were  never  seen  in 


70  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

the  Master's  sala.  For  the  administrador, 
brief  of  speech  by  nature,  softened  under  the 
genial  influence  of  wine,  and,  I  have  reason  to 
believe,  was  very  popular  in  his  own  particular 
set.  On  one  occasion,  I  could  have  sworn  that 
I  saw  Lola  emerging  with  the  other  visitors 
from  his  quarters,  but  the  glimpse  I  had  of  her 
was  very  brief,  and  I  dismissed  the  matter 
from  my  mind. 

The  visitor  I  have  most  cause  to  remember 
came  in  the  spring  of  1911.  The  tuna  crop 
that  year  was  very  heavy,  and  owing  to  its 
perishable  nature,  and  to  the  fact  that  the  wild 
cacti  also  had  brought  forth  with  unusual 
abundance,  the  administrador  had  difficulty  in 
disposing  of  it  to  his  satisfaction.  The 
stranger,  who  gave  himself  out  to  be  a  manu- 
facturer of  a  refreshing  drink  made  of  this 
fruit,  came  to  bid  in  the  entire  yield.  His 
errand  gave  him  access  to  all  corners  of  the 
hacienda. 

Felix  was  by  this  time  four  years  old,  and 
I  twelve.  The  Senorita's  confidence  in  me,  and 


THE  VILLAGE  71 

the  tranquillity  of  the  estate,  made  it  possible 
for  me  to  take  him  with  me  on  little  expedi- 
tions away  from  the  Casa.  On  the  particular 
morning  I  have  in  mind,  we  had  gone  to  the 
village  springs.  There,  with  watching  the 
coming  and  going  of  women  and  children, 
talking  with  them,  and  receiving  the  little 
attentions  they  bestowed  on  him,  Felix  was 
endlessly  amused.  Tired  out  at  last,  he  had 
just  fallen  asleep  in  my  lap  when  I  noticed  the 
administrador  and  the  stranger  coming  through 
the  corn  fields.  They  were  talking  together 
very  earnestly,  the  stranger  pausing  frequently 
to  emphasize  what  he  had  to  say  with  point- 
ings and  gestures  in  our  direction. 

"What  are  they  doing  here?"  I  thought  as 
they  approached.  "We  have  no  fwwo-pears 
for  sale." 

"Here  they  are,"  I  heard  the  administrador 
say,  as  they  paused  under  the  shade  of  the  fig 
tree.  "Ah,  good  morning,  how  are  you, 
Sefiorita  Molina?"  to  one  of  the  village 
matrons  all  aflutter  with  such  a  salutation. 


72  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

"Yes,  a  cup  of  water,  if  you  please;  we  are 
very  thirsty.  Hot  work,  this  walking.  A 
thousand  thanks  for  your  trouble !" 

That  was  another  suspicious  circumstance; 
they  were  walking,  instead  of  riding  as  usual. 

The  stranger  completed  the  circuit  of  the 
two  springs,  expressing  his  views,  whatever 
they  were,  in  short  grunts  and  the  squinting 
together  of  heavy  eyebrows  over  small,  pig- 
like  eyes.  He  made  no  pretense  of  drinking 
beyond  tasting  both  the  hot  spring  and  the 
cold,  and  then  spat  the  water  out  on  the 
ground. 

"Que  hombre!"  42  I  almost  said  aloud,  but 
checked  myself,  and  kept  my  head  well  down, 
hiding  my  own  face  and  Felix  as  best  I  could. 

"What  a  fool!"  the  stranger  muttered  at 
length,  advancing  nearer  and  taking  in  the 
nestling  village,  the  shore,  and  the  lake  in  a 
rapid  sweep  of  the  eyes.  "And  you,  too, 
Almonte,  are  a  fool  for  not  seeing  to  this 
before.  However,  the  hare's  loss  is  the 
hound's  gain, — though  of  course  we  will  pull 


THE  VILLAGE 


73 


it  off  together,  as  you  say.     This  site  is  mag- 
nificent ;  couldn't  be  better ;  a  hotel  .  .  ." 

"Cuidado!"  43  interrupted  the  administrador ', 
laying  a  hand  upon  his  friend's  arm.  "You 
forget;  these  Indians  of  Don  Luis's  are  edu- 
cated Indians,  not  like  those  on  your  estate. 
They  understand  altogether  too  much."  His 
laugh  was  not  pleasant  to  hear.  Suddenly  I 
saw  beneath  it  the  abysses  that  I  had  always 
feared  in  his  smiles,  treacherous  like  those  of 
the  smiling  lake. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THAT  night,  after  I  put  little  Felix  to  bed, 
I  slipped  down  into  the  garden.  In  that 
quiet,  fragrant  spot  troubles  and  worries  had 
a  way  of  growing  lighter.  The  moon  was 
full,  and  I  strolled  slowly  along  the  flowery 
terraces,  watching  its  broad  rippling  path 
across  the  lake.  Suddenly  a  sheet  of  flame 
flared  from  the  cone  of  Colima, — a  red  and 
angry  glare  that  colored  even  the  radiant 
moonlight.  My  thoughts  were  like  it,  trou- 
bling the  peaceful  scene  around  me.  I 
determined  to  go  to  Padre  Francisco  and  lay 
my  suspicions  before  him. 

I  found  him  in  the  sala  with  the  Sefiorita 
and  Don  Luis,  Don  Luis  smoking,  the  Sefiorita 
idly  pulling  a  rose  to  pieces,  and  both  listening 
to  him.  He  paced  the  room  as  he  talked. 

"No,  no,  I  tell  you  you  are  wrong,  Sefior," 
he  was  saying.  "This  agitation  of  Madero's 

74 


THE  VILLAGE  75 

is  of  a  different  color  from  those  President 
Diaz  has  been  in  the  habit  of  putting  aside  so 
lightly.  In  the  first  place,  Madero  is  working 
a  boca  llena;44  a  bad  sign  for  the  President 
and  a  good  one  for  the  people.  He  is  no 
military  revolutionist,  but  one  who  sought  the 
Presidency  in  accordance  with  the  Constitu- 
tion, by  peaceful  votes.  You  will  find  that  the 
people  themselves  are  being  aroused  by  this 
man." 

Don  Luis  blew  the  ashes  from  his  cigarette. 
"The  old  story,  I  presume;  land  for  the  land- 
less. And  his  family  are  the  owners  of  an 
entire  state !" 

"But  you  must  remember  that  the  peones 
are  not  reasoning  creatures,  mi  amigo.*5  Last 
year  I  myself  heard  him  address  a  street  crowd 
in  Lerma.  What  pleased  the  audience  even 
more  than  the  promise  of  lands,  were  he 
elected  to  the  Presidency,  was  his  equally 
impassioned  promise  that  they  should  exchange 
their  laborers'  trousers  for  the  gentlemen's 
pantalones.  That  was  something  concrete, 


76  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

within  the  range  of  their  experience.  The 
cheering  would  have  been  absurd, — if  it  had 
not  been  so  pitiful." 

"What  the  Padre  says  is  certainly  true  to 
this  extent,  Luis,"  broke  in  Dona  Marina, 
"that  Madero  has  had  the  courage  to  head  the 
first  political  party  in  opposition  to  President 
Diaz  at  the  polls.  All  the  other  agitators  I 
can  remember  have  tried  to  seize  the  Govern- 
ment by  force." 

"That  is  true.  And  it  would  certainly  have 
been  an  interesting  experiment  had  Diaz 
allowed  the  election  to  be  held,  instead  of 
throwing  Madero  into  jail.  I  admit  that." 

"Not  only  interesting,  but  essential,  in  the 
awakened  state  of  the  country.  The  Presi- 
dent is  too  old  a  man  to  realize  that  the  method 
of  sham  elections  by  which  he  has  remained  in 
power  these  thirty  years  will  no  longer  suffice. 
But  what  have  we  here?"  The  Padre  noticed 
my  presence  for  the  first  time,  and  broke  off 
abruptly. 

"Felix,  is  he  ill?"  questioned  the  Sefiorita, 


THE  VILLAGE  77 

noticing,  I  suppose,  the  anxiety  I  could  not 
conceal. 

"No,  Senorita,  do  not  agitate  yourself.  He 
is  well.  But,  with  your  permission,  I  feel  that 
I  should  tell  you  of  something  that  came  to  my 
notice  to-day.  It  may  be  nothing, — that  is  for 
you  to  judge."  Briefly  then  I  related  what 
had  happened  at  the  springs. 

"Do  you  know  this  man,  this  manufacturer, 
Father  ?"  Don  Luis  asked  when  I  had  finished. 

"Well,  I  should  judge  from  the  description," 
the  Padre  answered  briefly.  "And  so  should 
you." 

The  two  men  exchanged  a  long,  silent  glance, 
seeming  to  understand  each  other  without 
further  words. 

Don  Luis  stepped  to  the  door  and  clapped 
his  hands.  A  mozo 46  came  running  in  answer 
to  the  summons,  his  bare  feet  echoing  on  the 
tiled  corridor  long  before  he  himself  appeared. 

"Tell  the  administrador  I  wish  to  see  him." 

When  Senor  Almonte  came,  it  was  evident 
that  he  had  been  drinking;  the  flushed  face, 


78  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

insolent  smile,  and  unsteady  gait  told  the  story 
all  too  well. 

"At  your  feet,  Senorita,"  said  he,  saluting 
Dona  Marina's  hand  with  a  resounding  kiss. 
"Your  servant,  gentlemen.  Con  permiso." 4T 
He  drew  up  a  chair  noisily  and  sat  down. 

Don  Luis  looked  at  him  in  disgust  and 
amazement.  He  had  never  seen  the  adminis- 
trador  in  this  condition  before.  Dona  Marina 
half  rose  to  leave  the  room,  but  evidently 
thought  better  of  it,  and  remained,  standing 
beside  Don  Luis. 

"Almonte,"  Don  Luis  regarded  the  culprit 
steadily,  "I  had  better  tell  you  at  once  that  you 
and  your  friend  were  both  seen  and  heard 
to-day  at  the  springs." 

"Oho,  so;  then  that  she-fox  has  been  around 
again."  His  eyes  glared  sidelong  at  me. 

"Have  a  care !"  exclaimed  Don  Luis,  "or  by 
Heaven —  Who  is  this  friend  of  yours?" 

The  words  struck  the  fuddled  brain  of  the 
administrador  like  a  thunder-clap.  "He  is  the 
jefe  politico!" 


48 


THE  VILLAGE  79 

"I  thought  as  much.  Now,  what  is  your 
game?" 

"Game,  game?"  repeated  the  administrador 
stupidly.  "I  do  not  understand." 

"Perhaps  I  can  help  you  then.  As  my 
trusted  overseer,  and  my  father's  before  me, 
you  are  well  acquainted  with  the  legal  status  of 
the  Village  of  the  Shield.  You  know,  in  fact, 
that  these  villagers  have  no  legal  status,  hold- 
ing their  lands  simply  by  an  ancient  treaty 
with  my  ancestors,  which  is  in  truth  covered 
by  our  Constitution,  but  is  not  covered  by  our 
laws." 

"Pardon  me,  you  are  wrong  there."  The 
course  of  reasoning  outlined  by  Don  Luis 
probably  recalled  that  of  the  jefe  in  urging  his 
evil  scheme,  thus  producing  the  reaction  on 
which  Don  Luis  had  counted.  "They  are 
covered,  well  covered.  All  unrecorded  lands 
belong,  by  that  very  fact,  to  the  State. 
Caramba!49  What  have  you  to  say  to  that?" 
He  leered  up  into  his  master's  face. 

"I  see,  it  is  as  I  thought."     Don  Luis,  ignor- 


8o  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

ing  the  drunken  fool,  spoke  to  the  Padre. 
"And  the  State  is  here  represented  by  its  col- 
lector of  taxes,  its  scavenger,  its  spy,  the  jefe 
politico.  As  to  you,"  he  turned  to  the  admin- 
istrador,  "you  may  go.  In  the  morning,  if 
you  are  sober,  I  may  have  somewhat  more  to 
say." 

The  bleared  eyes  of  the  administrador 
followed,  against  their  will,  the  hand  that 
pointed  to  the  door.  He  rose  and  stumbled 
from  the  room. 

Don  Luis  knew  that  night  that  he  was  a 
ruined  man ;  ruined,  that  is,  unless  he  connived 
at  the  ruin  of  his  defenseless  villagers.  Such 
a  thought,  I  feel  sure,  never  crossed  his  mind. 
There  was  no  recourse  in  law;  in  truth,  there 
never  had  been.50  To  have  recorded  the 
village  lands  earlier,  as  required  by  law,  would 
only  have  brought  them  the  sooner  to  the  atten- 
tion of  the  jefe  who,  here,  as  in  every  district 
in  Mexico,  was  the  direct  representative  of  the 
Federal  Government  and  responsible  only  to 
it.  Not  even  the  powerful  protection  of  Don 


THE  VILLAGE  81 

Luis  could  have  saved  them  from  the  spec- 
ulator's greed.  Nor  could  he  follow  his 
impulse  to  buy  off  the  bargainers.  The  lands, 
he  had  no  doubt,  were  already  recorded  by  the 
jefe  in  the  name  of  the  Government.  A 
private  citizen,  setting  himself  against  such  a 
Government,  takes  the  wall. 

His  surmise  was  correct.  In  the  morning 
the  administrador  could  not  be  found.  He 
had  gone  to  join  his  accomplices  in  the  city. 
The  Village  Shield  was  doomed.  Yet  the 
menace  which  hung  over  us  was  not  immediate, 
in  the  judgment  of  Don  Luis  and  the  Padre. 
The  dictatorship  of  President  Diaz,  as  they 
knew,  was  tottering  to  its  fall.  Already 
Madero,  escaping  from  prison,  was  rallying 
an  army  in  the  North,  and  the  Federal  troops 
were  being  rushed  to  meet  the  rebel  force.  If 
the  jefe's  hands  were  kept  sufficiently  full,  he 
would  not  strike  yet.  And  if  not  soon,  he 
might  no  longer  have  the  power  to  harm  us. 
The  fate  of  the  Shield  thus  hung  upon  that  of 
the  country. 


82  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

Ugly  rumors  began  to  be  bruited  abroad. 
There  were  uprisings  to  the  west  and  to  the 
south.  Bandits,  unleashed  by  Diaz's  slack- 
ened power,  infested  the  mountains  once  more, 
and  came  down  to  terrorize  unprotected  farms 
and  traveling  merchants.  Men  were  killed 
for  their  gold,  and  women  carried  away.  We 
heard  of  trains  that  were  stalled  and  sacked, 
and  even  wrecked  with  no  regard  for  the  lives 
of  the  passengers.  Yet,  so  far,  Lerma  and 
its  vicinity  had  escaped  violence,  and  I  had 
from  time  to  time  the  great  joy  of  hearing  that 
Ramon  also  was  safe. 

We  of  the  Casa  Grande,  however,  kept 
closely  within  its  boundaries.  As  the  revolu- 
tion increased  in  violence,  Don  Luis  and  the 
Padre  had  many  an  anxious  conference.  At 
one  time,  it  was  almost  decided  between  them 
that  Dona  Marina  should  be  sent  with  Felix  to 
her  home  in  Cuba,  until  the  country  should 
become  safe  again.  But  to  this  she  would  not 
hear,  saying  that  where  Don  Luis  was,  was 
her  only  home,  and  that  in  spite  of  her  foreign 


THE  VILLAGE  83 

birth,  Mexico  was  her  country.  This,  of 
course,  was  literally  true,  since  through  the 
Dukes  of  Monteleone,  she  traced  her  lineage 
back  to  Moctezuma,  our  Emperor;  and  I  have 
always  believed  that  it  was  because  of  her 
feeling  of  kinship,  as  well  as  because  of  her 
gracious  character,  that  she  took  such  an 
interest  in  us  Indians.  The  reward  of  her 
piety  came  to  her  now  in  the  loyalty  and  devo- 
tion manifest  everywhere  on  the  estate. 

Nowhere  was  this  more  true  than  in  the 
Village  of  the  Shield.  Don  Luis  had  thought 
best  to  call  together  the  councilors  of  the 
village  and  acquaint  them  with  the  menace  to 
their  property,  and  of  the  impossibility  of  any 
appeal  save  through  arms.  He  explained 
from  time  to  time,  at  various  places  on  the 
estate,  the  course  of  the  revolution,  hoping 
thus  to  forestall  agitation  by  hired  agents  of 
this  faction  or  that,  whose  business  it  was  to 
recruit  the  armies  with  discontented  peones. 
He  went  so  far  as  to  issue  a  manifesto  of  his 
own,  in  which  he  counseled  his  laborers  to  keep 


84  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

out  of  the  conflict  and  to  attend  to  their  duties, 
promising  that  in  return  he  would  abide  by  the 
decision  of  the  Revolution,  even  if  it  should 
mean  the  portioning  out  of  his  estate.  By  this 
means,  and  also  through  the  faithful  teachers 
in  his  schools,  a  fairly  intelligent  public  opin- 
ion was  created  in  favor  of  peace. 

Thus,  for  two  months,  the  Hacienda  de  los 
Pajaritos  Santos,  like  the  vortex  of  a  whirl- 
wind, remained  calm.  President  Diaz  fled  the 
country,  and  the  Revolutionists  took  over  the 
Government.  We  all  breathed  easier  for  the 
news.  In  our  tiny  corner  of  the  Republic,  it 
seemed  to  mean  that  the  Shield  was  safe.  If 
it  meant  also  that  Don  Luis  would  be  forced 
to  knock  down  his  heritage,  as  it  were,  to  his 
Indian  serfs,  he  could  at  least  retire  with 
honor,  and  even  with  wealth,  to  Cuba.  The 
outlook  in  the  sola  was  cheerful  and  the 
hacienda  throve. 

Then,  from  a  totally  unexpected  quarter,  the 
blow  fell.  It  was  on  Christmas  morning,  and 
the  villagers,  as  usual,  were  preparing  to  go 


THE  VILLAGE  85 

to  mass.  I  had  risen,  without  waking  Felix, 
and  slipped  down  to  the  village  in  the  early 
dawn.  There  it  was  the  custom  of  our  women 
to  keep  vigil  with  the  Holy  Virgin.  We  had 
lighted  our  candles  and  begun  the  processional, 
whose  cadences  of  "Madre  mia,51  Madre  mia," 
ring  even  now  in  my  ears,  when  a  most  horrible 
commotion  broke  forth.  It  came  from  the 
lake,  shrouded  in  mist,  and  from  the  shore,  and 
was  caught  up  by  yet  other  shouts  and  cries  in 
the  direction  of  the  Casa  Grande. 

"The  bandits!52  Run  for  your  life!"  I 
heard  in  a  prolonged  answering  shriek. 
Crushing  my  candle  out  against  my  dress,  I 
did  run,  as  fast  as  I  could,  to  the  Casa.  The 
lake  mist  served  to  hide  me,  and  the  route  I 
took  by  instinct,  up  the  bottom  of  a  little 
ravine,  was  less  used  than  that  through  the 
cornfields.  My  one  idea  was  to  save  Felix. 
But  it  was  a  full  league  to  the  house,  and  the 
stones  of  the  dry  stream-bed  were  very  rough 
to  my  feet.  When  I  arrived  at  the  walls  of  the 
Casa,  I  knew  that  I  was  too  late. 


86  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

No  one  molested  me  as  I  entered  a  postern- 
gate  and  stole  through  the  vineyard.  In  fact, 
in  the  whole  course  of  the  foray,  I  saw  only 
one  of  the  outlaws.  Dead  silence  had  settled 
over  the  place.  I  passed  through  the  garden, 
where  the  Virgin's  Mantles 53  were  just  open- 
ing to  the  sun,  and  on  into  the  house.  But  why 
should  I  revive  the  horrors  that  I  found  there, 
the  evidences  of  violence  and  desperate 
resistance?  Enough  to  say  that  the  house 
was  deserted,  and  Felix's  little  crib  empty, 
though  still  warm  with  the  imprint  of  his  body. 
He  was  gone,  who  only  a  few  moments  before 
had  been  there,  safe  and  well.  Nowhere 
did  I  find  a  single  servant  or  come  across  a 
corpse  that  might  give  some  clew  to  the  myste- 
rious disappearance  of  the  family.  Whoever 
the  bandits  were,  they  had  been  in  sufficient 
force  to  take  their  dead  and  wounded  with 
them.  To  aid  them  in  their  flight,  they  had 
levied  the  Master's  horses ;  not  one  was  left. 

I  went  out  on  the  balcony  and  scoured  the 
country  with  my  eyes.  To  the  north,  a  spiral 


THE  VILLAGE  87 

of  dust  traveling  swiftly  along  the  road  to 
Lerma,  showed  the  bandits'  trail.  But  my 
eye  was  caught  away  from  this  by  a  nearer 
evidence  of  their  presence.  The  village,  and 
even  the  fields  about  it,  were  in  flames!  Nor 
were  the  butchers  through  with  their  bloody 
work  there,  as  shrieks  and  the  sound  of  pistol 
shots  borne  up  to  me  by  the  wind,  bore  witness. 
At  that  terrible  spectacle,  the  horror  of  the 
whole  catastrophe  broke  over  me.  I  ran,  I 
know  not  how,  nor  whither,  until  I  lost 
consciousness. 


PART  II 
LEY  FUGA 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  cool  dews  of  night  must  have  revived 
me.  I  woke  at  length  to  hear  the 
familiar  lapping  of  the  lake  on  the  shore.  But 
as  I  sat  up  and  looked  about  me,  I  saw  that  it 
was  a  part  of  the  shore  with  which  I  was 
entirely  unfamiliar.  No  lights  shone  from 
any  habitation;  even  the  stars  seemed  hostile, 
gleaming  like  daggers  in  the  breast  of  the  dark 
waters.  I  lay  chilled,  hungry  and  utterly 
desolate,  until  dawn.  Something  in  the  stir  of 
the  dawn  wind  woke  me  once  more  to  life. 

Like  a  panorama,  the  events  of  the  day 
before  passed  through  my  mind.  There  must 
have  been  two  attacking  parties,  I  decided,  one 
from  the  shore  and  one  from  the  lake.  Their 
motive  at  the  hacienda  was  probably  robbery, 
and  they  had  carried  off  their  victims  to 
extract  money  by  torture.  I  shuddered  as  I 

91 


92  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

thought  of  the  terrible  tales  of  just  such  forays 
to  which  I  had  so  often  listened  of  late.  But 
why  had  they  taken  the  time  and  the  pains  to 
visit  their  wrath  on  my  poor  and  peaceful 
village?  Suddenly  the  face  of  the  one  bandit 
I  had  seen  again  confronted  me;  the  bleared 
eyes,  the  snarling  mouth,  the  grizzled  hair. 
As  plainly  as  if  he  stood  there  before  me,  I  saw 
Lucio  Almonte,  the  administrador. 

This,  then,  explained  the  mystery  of  the 
well  planned  attacks.  How  neatly,  with  no 
blame  attached,  the  Village  Shield  had  fallen 
into  his  hands!  By  the  time  the  Government 
took  cognizance  of  the  outrages,  if  it  ever  did, 
What  evidence  would  there  be  to  connect  him 
or  his  friend,  the  jefe,  with  the  matter?  In 
the  unsettled  state  of  the  country,  the  attacks 
might  be  laid  to  any  one  of  a  half  dozen 
mountain  cutthroats, — or  even  to  the  strag- 
gling armies  of  the  Government  itself. 

This  theory  of  the  administrador' s  com- 
plicity in  our  destruction,  though  modified  by 
later  events  to  include  a  darker  villainy,  served 


LEY  FUGA  93 

to  quicken  me  to  action.  The  robbers  of  the 
hacienda  had  gone  to  Lerma ;  to  Lerma  I  also 
would  go,  and  find  out  through  Ramon,  if 
possible,  the  fate  of  my  mistress  and  master, 
and  of  my  little  darling,  Felix.  His  baby 
hands  I  saw  continually  stretched  to  me  in  sup- 
plication, and  his  moans  reached  across  the 
mountains  to  echo  in  my  heart.  But  first  I 
determined  to  revisit  the  village.  Some  there 
might  be,  wounded  or  dying,  in  need  of  succor. 
By  this  time  I  was  faint  with  hunger  and 
thirst.  The  margin  of  the  lake  here  was 
swampy,  and  as  I  made  my  way  down  to  the 
water,  snakes  uncoiled  themselves  from  the 
low-growing  bushes,  and  dropped  beside  my 
feet.  With  only  a  hasty  drink,  I  was  glad  to 
regain  firmer  ground.  A  clump  of  trees 
draped  in  vines,  on  which  a  countless  number 
of  birds  were  feeding,  gave  me  hope  that  I  too 
might  find  a  breakfast  there.  I  was  not  dis- 
appointed; the  vines  still  held  clusters  of  wild 
grapes,  overripe,  but  deliciously  cooling  to  my 
parched  throat. 


94  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

From  the  vantage  of  the  trees,  I  was  able  to 
get  my  bearings  better,  and  all  day  followed  on 
the  higher  ground  the  curving  shore  of  the 
lake.  By  nightfall,  I  had  reached  the 
vicinity  of  the  village  once  more.  Here  I  hid 
until  I  could  determine  whether  any  of  the 
robbers  were  still  about.  All  was  silent ;  there 
was  no  light.  The  quickly  burning  fires  of 
yesterday  had  left  no  taint  of  smoke  in  the  air. 
As  I  watched  the  dimly  seen  shore,  and  the  two 
church  towers  that  still  outlined  themselves  in 
white  against  the  lake,  I  could  have  fancied  my 
village  was  only  sleeping,  and  not  dead. 

Cautiously  I  descended,  past  the  springs, 
through  the  burned  milpa,  and  into  the  ruins. 
I  had  only  the  light  of  the  stars  to  guide  me, 
and  in  this  way  was  spared  part  of  the  horror 
which  must  otherwise  have  overwhelmed  me. 
Those  whom  I  found  were  dead  and  unrecog- 
nizable in  the  dim  light,  and  were  mostly  men 
and  children.  The  women,  where  were  they? 
"Mary,  Mother,"  I  found  myself  repeating, 
"have  mercy  on  them."  So  I  came  to  the  gap- 


LEY  FUGA  95 

ing  doors  of  the  church.  A  light  still  burned 
there,  before  the  Virgin's  shrine.  Beneath  it, 
I  saw  the  blurred  outline  of  a  body.  I  felt  it. 
The  heart  beat  faintly !  It  was  the  first  living 
thing  I  had  found  in  all  my  search.  Without 
considering  whether  it  were  friend  or  foe,  I 
turned  the  face  to  the  light.  What  was  my 
thankfulness  to  discover  Padre  Francisco,  sore 
wounded,  doubtless,  but  still  alive ! 

There  must  be  no  time  lost  if  he — and  I — 
were  to  be  saved;  at  any  moment  the  lurking 
bandits  might  return.  I  had  hoped,  as  I 
skirted  the  hills  on  my  way  back,  that  I  might 
find  some  boat  at  the  village  which  the  brigands 
had  overlooked.  An  old  fishing  boat,  hidden 
in  a  clump  of  willow  trees  where  Carlos,  its 
owner,  was  in  the  habit  of  mooring  it,  not  more 
than  twenty  varas 54  down  the  beach,  rewarded 
my  search.  It  was  already  equipped,  as  our 
fishing  boats  always  were,  with  a  brazier,  a 
supply  of  charcoal,  jarros,56  and  a  small  quan- 
tity of  provisions,  besides  the  fishing  nets. 
Back  of  the  mast,  a  thatched  cover  made  a  tiny 


96  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

cabin,  and  it  was  my  plan  to  place  Padre 
Francisco  there. 

By  tying  together  some  half  charred  bam- 
boos, I  made  a  rude  litter  on  which  I  dragged 
him  down  to  the  beach  and  at  last  got  him  on 
board.  I  cast  off,  poled  until  I  caught  the  off- 
shore breeze,  and  hoisted  the  lateen  sail.  As 
our  boat  began  to  move  more  swiftly  through 
the  water,  the  ripples  beneath  the  prow  were 
indeed  a  grateful  sound  to  me.  Lashing  the 
stern  oar  in  place,  I  gave  my  attention  to  the 
poor  Padre.  There  was  not  much  I  could  do 
for  him  until  daylight,  for  I  dared  not  strike 
a  match.  But  I  disposed  him  as  comfortably 
as  I  could  under  the  little  thatched  roof,  and 
moistened  his  head  and  lips  with  water.  With 
this  and  with  the  shifting  of  the  rudder  oar 
to  keep  our  course  down  the  lake,  I  was  busy 
until  dawn ;  but  not  too  busy  to  think  with  con- 
cern on  my  circumstances,  and  to  wonder  what 
I  should  do  were  the  Padre  to  die. 

Daylight  found  us  well  out  from  either 
shore.  I  hauled  down  the  sail,  and  made  a 


LEY  FUGA  97 

fire  on  the  brazier.  With  warm  water  I 
washed  the  ugly  machete 56  wound  on  the 
Padre's  shoulder,  and  bound  it  up  as  well  as  I 
could.  Then  I  made  corn  gruel  and  poured 
it  between  his  lips.  His  torpor  continued, 
only  an  occasional  moan  showing  me  that  he 
still  lived.  All  day  we  drifted,  one  of  perhaps 
half  a  dozen  boats  on  the  broad  lake,  exciting 
no  suspicion  from  them  or  from  the  shores.  At 
night  I  again  hoisted  the  sail,  and  we  sped  away. 
The  following  morning,  when  I  awakened, 
the  Padre's  eyes  were  open,  and  he  knew  me. 
From  that  time  on,  he  mended  steadily.  His 
weakness,  oh,  how  fortunately  for  us  both! 
had  come  chiefly  through  loss  of  blood  and  the 
nervous  shock  of  his  heavy  fall  when  he  was 
struck  down.  As  he  grew  better,  I  told  him 
bit  by  bit  what  had  happened,  and  what  my 
plan  was  in  going  to  Lerma.  The  necessity 
for  hastening  his  recovery,  instead  of  agitating 
him,  served  as  a  tonic.  Two  weeks  later 
found  us  nearing  the  end  of  our  strange  cruise 
in  the  upper  reaches  of  the  lake,  from  which  a 


98  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

mountainous,  but  comparatively  short,  trail, 
known  to  Padre  Francisco,  led  to  the  city  of 
Lerma. 

In  a  thicket,  similar  to  the  one  in  which  I 
had  found  it,  we  moored  our  boat,  and  set 
forth  on  our  march.  Our  provisions  were 
now  of  the  scantiest, — only  a  bundle  of  dried 
fish,  and  an  olla 57  of  water  which  I  carried  on 
my  head.  Naturally,  our  progress  was  slow, 
the  Padre  suffering  greatly  from  his  wound, 
and  I  always  on  the  lookout  to  avoid  the  char- 
coal burners  and  the  herdmen's  huts  which  we 
occasionally  saw.  Had  it  not  been  for  the 
Padre's  cassock,  we  might  have  showed  our- 
selves without  danger  of  discovery.  The  Vir- 
gin herself,  I  have  always  believed,  aided  me 
in  overcoming  this  difficulty. 

One  evening  we  espied  a  hamlet  in  a  little 
valley  beneath  us.  I  decided  to  go  down  to 
the  wells  after  water,  *  for  this  was  our  great- 
est need.  By  the  pools,  as  I  neared  them,  I 
could  see  the  washings  hung  to  dry.  No  one 
seemed  to  be  watching  them  for  the  moment. 


LEY  FUGA  99 

I  filled  my  olla  quickly,  and  snatched  from  the 
mesquites 58  two  laborers'  trousers  and  coats. 

Would  the  Padre  be  angry  with  me  for  my 
thefts,  I  wondered?  I  showed  them  to  him 
with  some  fear  of  a  rebuke. 

But  as  he  looked  at  them  and  at  me,  a  won- 
derful light  of  comprehension  shone  in  his 
eyes. 

"Ninita"  he  said,  "surely  our  Father  hath 
guided  you  in  all  that  you  have  done.  I  thank 
God  daily  for  your  brave  heart  and  ready  wits. 
As  for  the  poor  peasants  yonder,  may  his 
blessing  make  up  to  them  their  loss, — a  loss  of 
what  they  would  gladly  give  could  they  know 
our  need." 

With  his  knife,  the  Padre  helped  me  to  cut 
and  fashion  one  of  the  suits  to  my  size.  He 
also  sheared  my  long  hair  with  the  same  dull 
tool.  Our  appearance  thus  altered,  we  were 
able  to  go  more  openly  and  comfortably,  to  the 
Padre's  great  relief.  We  now  approached  the 
city,  in  sight  of  whose  domes  and  towers  we 
had  already  traveled  for  a  week.  As  I  watched 


loo  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

the  Padre  striding  on  ahead  of  me,  his  tonsure 
overgrown  with  hair,  and  further  hidden  by 
a  battered  hat,  his  face  bearded,  the  cotton 
trousers  flapping  on  his  bare  legs,  I  could  my- 
self scarcely  believe  that  he  was  indeed  the 
courtly  Father  I  had  known. 

A  similar  thought  was  doubtless  in  his  mind, 
as  he  turned  to  look  as  me,  plodding  along  be- 
hind him. 

"Andale,  muchacho"  59  he  called  back,  not 
for  my  benefit,  but  for  that  of  a  company  of 
horsemen  who  were  passing  us  at  the  time. 

As  I  came  up,  he  motioned  to  a  seat  on  the 
bank  beside  him,  and  looked  me  over,  from 
my  hair,  bobbed  to  shoulder  length  and  wound, 
after  the  fashion  of  the  boys  of  my  tribe,  with 
a  cotton  rag,  to  my  unsandaled  feet. 

"My  child,"  said  he,  "let  us  sit  here  a  few 
moments  and  rest.  We  are  now  about  to  en- 
ter on  the  most  dangerous  part  of  our  quest. 
You,  who  have  been  so  brave  and  so  wise 
hitherto,  will  you  also  be  equal  to  the  strain 
in  the  great  city,  where  all  is  strange  to  you  ?" 


LEY  FUGA  101 

"With  your  help,  Father,  and  that  of  the 
Blessed  Mary,"  I  answered  humbly,  looking 
across  the  hot,  treeless  plain  which  seemed  to 
bring  the  city  almost  within  touch.  "Besides, 
it  will  not  be  all  strange  to  me.  Ramon  will 
be  there." 

The  Padre  made  no  response  for  some  time. 
"When  you  last  heard  from  Ramon,  he  said 
that  his  Master  had  been  drawn  into  the 
Madero  faction,  and  had  become  a  captain  in 
the  cavalry,  did  he  not?" 

"Yes,  and  Ramon  himself  is  a  soldier,  and 
has  a  black  horse  to  ride!" 

"Precisely,"  said  the  Padre.  "And  it  may 
be  very  dangerous  for  us  to  discover  ourselves 
to  him.  Had  you  considered  that?" 

"To  Ramon?  Oh,  no,  my  father,  you  do 
him  an  injustice.  But  of  course  you  do  not 
know  Ramon  as  I  do.  Only  let  me  find  him, 
and  all  will  be  well." 

"It  may  be,"  he  answered,  "and  it  may  be 
that  he  will  be  able  to  help  us  the  more  for  his 
political  connections.  But  it  will  behoove  us 


102  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

to  exercise  the  greatest  care,  and  to  remember 
always  what  is  at  stake." 

We  now  entered  the  city,  Padre  Francisco 
stalking  ahead,  looking  the  part  of  the  Indian 
even  to  the  sarape,  made  out  of  his  brown 
habit,  and  now  folded  across  his  shoulder.  I 
trudged  along  at  his  heels.  The  wide  streets, 
the  solid  buildings,  and  the  continuous  passing 
of  people  on  foot  and  in  carriages  confused 
me  inexpressibly.  I  had  all  I  could  do  to  re- 
frain from  clinging  to  his  hand.  Trams 
clanged  past  us;  and  as  darkness  fell  and  the 
electric  lights  flashed  out,  each  plaza  that  we 
passed  became  vocal  with  military  bands. 
The  promenading  people,  the  music,  the  lights, 
would  have  made  it  impossible  for  me  to  real- 
ize that  here  too,  only  a  few  weeks  before,  the 
revolution  had  raged,  had  not  Padre  Francisco 
pointed  out  its  ravages  in  occasional  fallen 
cornices  and  riddled  houses. 

At  length,  in  a  quiet,  older  portion  of  the 
city,  we  came  to  the  zaguan 60  of  the  house 
where  Ramon's  master  lived.  Padre  Fran- 


LEY  FUGA  103 

cisco,  who  knew  the  street  well,  looked  about 
and  drew  me  after  him  into  the  patio.Q1  We 
had  no  sooner  entered,  however,  than  a  troop 
of  horsemen  clattered  down  the  street,  and 
rode  through  the  open  gate. 

"What  have  we  here  ?"  cried  one  of  the  com- 
pany, looking  at  us  sharply  from  under  his  cap, 
and  apparently  on  the  point  of  ordering  us 
away  in  no  very  civil  fashion. 

My  heart  leaped  at  the  sound  of  his  voice. 
It  seemed  to  me  no  time  to  hesitate.  "Ra- 
mon, Ramon!"  I  cried. 

His  quickness  saved  us.  "What,  Carlito, 
from  my  native  village!"  He  turned  to  the 
leader  of  the  troop.  "Capitan,  I  hope  you  will 
pardon  the  lad  his  lack  of  city  manners." 

The  Padre  and  I,  following  his  cue,  made 
our  salutations  awkwardly  to  the  Captain,  in 
whom  we  recognized  Ramon's  master,  and 
then  passed  on  to  the  kitchen  to  which  Ramon 
directed  us,  saying  briefly,  "I  am  indeed  glad 
that  you  have  come." 

Perhaps  half  an  hour  later  he  joined  us,  not 


1O4 


THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 


in  the  kitchen,  but  in  the  study  to  which  a  mozo 
had  come  to  conduct  us.  A  table  was  laid 
there  with  a  white  cloth,  and  on  it  was  bread, 
white  as  the  cloth,  and  generous  bottles  of 
wine. 

Ramon,  our  Ramon,  knelt  and  kissed  the 
Padre's  hands.  But  me  he  did  not  kiss,  only 
folded  my  fingers  in  his,  and  looked  at  me  in 
a  sort  of  dumb  wonder,  and  I  looked  at  him. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  excitements  of  the  revolution  in 
Lerma,  and  the  duplicity  of  the  admin- 
istrador,  who,  with  the  jefe,  was  now  high  in 
the  counsels  of  the  winning  side,  had  prevented 
Ramon  from  hearing  anything  of  our  dread- 
ful fate. 

"Maldidon  de  Dios!"  he  exclaimed,  rising 
and  digging  his  nails  into  the  quick  flesh  of 
his  clenched  hands,  as  the  terrible  story  was 
unfolded.  "The  scoundrels,  the  murderers! 
It  is  only  this  morning  that  Almonte  stopped 
me  and  told  me  that  Don  Luis  and  the  Sefiorita 
had  sent  me  their  remembrances !  How  did  he 
dare  ?  But  that  explains  why  he  has  suddenly 
become  so  civil.  May  God  reward  him !"  and 
Ramon  cursed  the  administrador. 

"Restrain    yourself,    Ramon,"    the    Padre 

counseled,  motioning  him  to  his  seat.     "To 

105 


io6  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

you,  too,  the  horror  will  become  familiar.  We 
rely  upon  you  to  help  us  find  our  dear  friends 
who,  God  willing,  are  still  alive.  We  must  in 
particular,  effect  the  rescue  of  the  Senorita 
and  little  Felix." 

Ramon  understood  the  necessity,  even  bet- 
ter than  we.  With  an  iron  will  that  molded 
his  boyish  face  like  a  mask,  he  controlled  his 
passion,  and  sat  long  with  the  Padre  at  the 
table,  discussing  the  political  situation  and  per- 
fecting our  plans. 

To  me,  only  a  girl,  and  worn  with  the  re- 
sponsibilities and  dangers  of  our  long  flight, 
it  was  very  sweet  to  give  over  the  planning  to 
those  two  who  knew  so  well  the  strange  ways 
of  the  great  world  into  which  our  tragedies 
had  plunged  us.  I  listened  till  my  tired  head 
sank  lower  and  lower,  and  I  fell  asleep. 

Hours  later,  through  the  deep  slumber  that 
held  me,  I  felt  Ramon's  arms  about  me  as  he 
carried  me  to  bed.  "Sleep  well,  little  sister," 
I  heard  him  say.  He  stooped  to  seal  my  eye- 
lids with  kisses  that  seemed  to  weight  them 


LEY  FUGA  107 

still  more  heavily,  and  left  me  to  my  dreams, 
— dreams  of  dancing  water,  of  our  wattled  hut, 
of  Grandfather,  Grandmother,  and  Ramon. 

I  woke  to  a  freshly  whitewashed  room,  and 
to  sunlight  sifting  through  closed  shutters 
upon  a  cool,  tiled  floor.  At  first,  it  seemed  to 
me  I  was  back  at  the  Casa  Grande,  and  in- 
voluntarily I  reached  out  for  Felix's  crib.  My 
hand  instead  touched  the  coarse  cloth  of  a 
clean  little  cotton  suit,  laid  across  the  chair  be- 
side me.  The  sight  of  it  recalled  me  to  the 
present,  and  to  the  heartache  that  seemed  the 
more  unbearable  after  my  happy  dreams. 

But  at  least  I  had  found  Ramon.  Even  as 
I  realized  this,  he  tapped  at  the  door,  and  told 
me  that  he  had  prepared  my  bath.  It  seemed 
so  natural  that  he  should  take  care  of  me  that 
I  did  not  realize  until  long  afterward  his 
thoughtfulness,  nor  the  risk  he  ran  in  thus 
secreting  us  two  fugitives  in  his  Master's 
house.  With  his  own  hands  he  served  our 
breakfast  of  rolls  and  chocolate,  before  he 
mounted  his  horse  and  rode  away. 


io8  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

The  plans  of  the  previous  evening  •  bore 
speedy  fruit.  The  next  night  found  the  Padre 
and  myself  settled  in  poor  and  noisy  lodgings 
in  the  street  that  ran  opposite  the  Plaza  of  the 
Penitenciaria.  In  this  gloomy  building,  Ra- 
mon surmised,  Don  Luis  might  now  be  im- 
prisoned. The  charge  against  him  was  sure 
to  be  a  political  one,  preferred  by  Almonte  or 
the  jefe  or  both,  and  he  would  therefore  be  held 
incommunicado.62  If  a  trial  had  taken  place, 
he  might  be  already  in  the  loathsome  dungeons 
of  San  Juan  de  Uloa,  hundreds  of  miles  away, 
in  the  harbor  of  Vera  Cruz.  Or,  he  might  be 
dead.  Ramon  had  little  hope  of  finding  out 
what  had  become  of  him.  But  about  a  woman 
and  a  child,  there  was  sure  to  be  some  talk. 

In  the  plaza,  in  front  of  the  Penitenciaria, 
was  held  each  morning  a  flourishing  market. 
Here,  later  on,  with  money  furnished  by  Ra- 
mon, the  Padre  purchased  the  privilege  of  a 
booth.  Our  stock  in  trade  consisted  of  bright- 
hued  petates  and  baskets  which  I  colored  and 
wove  in  the  patterns  used  by  our  village,  and 


LEY  FUGA  109 

handed  down,  I  suppose,  from  the  times  of  our 
ancestors.  It  would  have  been  safer,  perhaps, 
could  I  have  changed  these  patterns ;  for  many 
times,  when  the  administrador  or  the  jefe 
passed  by  on  their  way  to  the  jail,  I  shrank 
back  fearing  that  they  might  notice  something 
familiar  in  the  gay  mats  and  baskets  which, 
by  their  very  novelty,  attracted  an  unusual 
amount  of  attention.  But  it  is  doubtless  true 
that  a  man's  eyes  do  not  see  trifles  like  a 
woman's.  To  Lucio  Almonte,  moreover,  we 
were  dead,  and  our  ghosts  did  not  trouble  him. 
The  rest  of  the  market  about  us  was  taken 
up  with  the  usual  displays  of  fruit  and  vege- 
tables, chickens  and  eggs.  There  were  be- 
sides, the  flocks  of  turkeys  which  made  their 
headquarters  here,  but  were  driven  through 
the  streets  to  the  kitchens  of  their  purchasers. 
There  were  booths  draped  with  homespun  cot- 
ton cloths,  or  machine-made  laces  from  los 
Estados  Unidos  de  America™  and  others 
where  the  fine,  banded  potteries  of  Lerma  were 
displayed.  At  still  others,  molders  of  clay 


no  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

or  carvers  of  wood  offered  to  make  your  por- 
trait while  you  waited,  at  twenty-five  centavos 
per  head.  Under  the  portales 64  at  the  north- 
ern end,  leather  dealers  hung  ill-smelling  shoes 
and  saddles.  A%f£-makers,85  flower-girls, 
and  candy-venders  threaded  the  narrow  aisles 
between  the  booths,  crying  their  wares.  About 
the  fountain,  in  the  center  of  the  market,  the 
hubbub  was  always  at  its  highest  and  gossip 
most  to  be  heard. 

Back  and  forth  to  this  fountain  I  passed 
many  times  a  day,  saying  little,  but  seeing 
much.  Here  came  the  guards  from  the  Peni- 
tenciaria,  to  loiter  with  the  blue-shawled  In- 
dian girls  who  also  came  to  fill  their  ollas,  and 
here  the  relatives  or  friends  of  those  im- 
prisoned often  lingered,  while  waiting  for  ad- 
mission, in  the  cool  shade  of  the  flowering 
orange  trees.  Both  the  custodians  and  the 
friends  of  the  victims  took  this  opportunity 
to  carry  on  a  quiet  trade  of  their  own,  either 
in  the  personal  belongings  of  the  prisoners  or 
in  trifles  made  by  them  to  be  sold  for  food. 


LEY  FUGA  ill 

Whether  the  money  realized  from  these  sales 
found  its  way  to  the  owners,  Padre  Francisco 
much  doubted.  But  at  any  rate,  the  traffic  in 
carved  peach  seeds,  horse-hair  brushes  and  the 
like  was  brisk. 

While  Padre  Francisco, — who  also  learned 
to  make  as  well  as  to  sell  our  wares, — and  I 
were  thus  all  eyes  and  ears  in  the  market,  Ra- 
mon lounged,  haughtily  to  be  sure,  about  the 
barracks.  He  was  also  so  diligent  in  service 
and  withal  so  dashing  a  rider,  that  his  Captain 
was  pleased  to  secure  his  admission  into  his 
own  exclusive  Club.  Here,  as  I  have  heard 
Ramon  tell  it,  his  part  was  a  very  humble  one, 
consisting  chiefly  in  furnishing  a  fourth  in  the 
officers'  stringed  quartet.  But  in  the  intervals 
of  playing,  he  had  opportunity  of  watching 
closely  the  other  members,  among  whom  Lucio 
Almonte  and  the  jefe  were  loudest  in  talk. 
This  was  no  doubt  due  to  the  fact  that  wine 
and  beer  were  plentiful,  and  good  fellowship  a 
political  asset. 

One  night,  doubly  dark  with  terrific  wind 


112  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

and  rain,  Ramon  came  to  our  rooms.  As  he 
dropped  his  dripping  cloak  and  sombrero  on 
the  floor,  and  drew  up  his  chair  to  the  brazier, 
I  was  startled  by  the  pallor  of  his  face. 

'They  are  drunk  over  at  the  Club,  and  there- 
fore I  have  news."  He  put  his  hands  before 
his  eyes  as  if  to  blot  out  some  intolerable  pic- 
ture. 

"Speak,"  said  the  Padre  sharply. 

As  for  me,  I  laid  my  cheek  against  his  hands. 
"Tell  me,  brother,  is  it  Felix?" 

"No,  not  Felix;  of  him  I  know  nothing." 
He  shuddered.  "Almonte,  that  devil — to- 
night he  boasted  that  Dona  Marina  was  dead." 

A  groan  broke  from  the  Padre ;  he  made  the 
sign  of  the  cross,  and  then  I  could  see  his  lips 
moving  in  prayer. 

"Don  Luis  has  been  sent  to  San  Juan  de 
Uloa,"  Ramon  continued  in  a  dry,  lifeless 
voice.  "Better  dead,  too,  I  say!" 

"And  of  Felix,  nothing?"  the  Padre  asked 
at  length: 

"No ;  I  daresay  Felix  would  not  interest  Al- 


LEY  FUGA  113 

monte  except  as  a  m'eans  of  extorting  money 
— or  worse.  By  his  political  ruse — I  believe 
Don  Luis  was  accused  of  being  the  author  of 
some  kind  of  socialistic  pronunciamiento 66  hos- 
tile to  the  Government — Almonte  and  the  jefe 
secured  the  entire  estate  by  simple  gift  from 
the  new  Government  in  reward  for  their  zeal." 
He  paused.  "The  Senorita,  I  understood  him, 
died  to-day.  It  may  be ;  if  so,  Felix  may  still 
be  alive.  I  waited  until  they  were  drunk,  but 
I  heard  nothing  more.  Ojald!" 6T  he  burst 
forth  in  sudden  fury,  "that  I  had  killed  them 
where  they  sat !" 

"Patience,  my  son,  patience.  Felix's  life, 
not  to  mention  ours  which  are  dear  to  you, 
hangs  on  your  discretion.  Wisdom  beyond 
your  years  has  been  given  to  you  in  this  mat- 
ter, and  strength  will  be  given  likewise."  He 
laid  his  hand  soothingly  on  the  boy's  shoulder, 
racked  with  noiseless  sobs.  "I  could  wish  the 
Captain  might  help  us  in  this  dilemma,"  he 
continued,  when  Ramon  had  regained  his  self- 
control. 


114  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

"I  also.  He  is  a  generous  and  noble  man, 
and  a  friend  of  Don  Luis's  as  well.  Nothing 
would  seem  more  natural  than  to  ask  him,  and 
I  have  found  myself  almost  doing  it  a  dozen 
times.  Nothing  but  your  own  advice  to  the 
contrary,  Father,  has  restrained  me.  But  I 
believe  that  you  are  right,  that  in  these  days 
we  can  trust  very  few,  and  even  when  we  do 
trust  them,  have  no  right  to  endanger  them  in 
the  ruin  which  hangs  over  us." 

In  spite  of  my  grief  these  words  of  Ramon's 
made  me  very  proud.  By  the  same  course  of 
reasoning  he,  who  did  not  by  birth  belong  to 
my  village,  ntight  have  shirked  the  responsibil- 
ity of  helping  us.  That  it  did  not  occur  to 
him  to  do  so,  simply  showed  that  he  was  Ra- 
mon. My  heart  became  lighter.  Surely  the 
good  God  would  crown  such  faithfulness  with 
success.  Felix  must  be  found! 

But  still  the  days  went  by,  and  there  was 
no  sign.  The  heat  of  summer  beat  down  on 
the  dusty  market,  and  made  our  rooms  an  oven. 
The  Padre,  who  had  not  yet  recovered  from  his 


LEY  FUGA  115 

wound,  drooped  visibly.  But  he  never  com- 
plained; his  anxiety  seemed  to  be  all  for  me. 

"Pobrecito,"  he  said  to  me  many  a  time, 
patting  my  cheeks,  "is  it  not  too  hard  for  you? 
Courage,  we  must  know  soon." 

Had  it  not  been  for  the  showers  which  came, 
often  with  great  violence,  to  refresh  the 
parched  city,  it  seems  as  though  we  should 
have  died.  But  after  these  downpours  even 
the  foul-odored  market  bloomed  into  beauty, 
and  the  cool  winds  healed  us. 

One  noon-time,  after  one  of  these  hard 
showers,  I  went  over  to  the  fountain.  There 
were  comparatively  few  idlers  there  yet,  for 
big  drops  still  rained  down  from  the  over- 
weighted trees.  But  among  the  little  groups 
was  one  of  the  prison  guards  with  whom  I  had 
become  acquainted,  making  a  practice  of 
buying  his  trinkets  when  they  were  not  too 
dear. 

"Hola,  there,  boy,"  he  bawled  now.  "I  sup- 
pose you  do  not  want  to  buy  a  doll  ?"  He  held 
up  by  one  leg  a  dilapidated,  ragged  object  for 


ii6  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

me  to  see.  My  heart  stood  still;  the  doll  was 
the  one  Ramon  had  carved  so  long  ago  for 
Felix,  the  little  one's  treasure,  without  which 
he  refused  to  go  to  sleep !  Alive  or  dead,  this 
soldier  knew  what  had  become  of  my  dar- 
ling. 

"But  perhaps  you  are  too  old,"  he  continued, 
mercifully  misunderstanding  my  embarrass- 
ment. At  this  sally  the  crowd  laughed. 

I  sat  down  on  the  coping  of  the  fountain  to 
steady  myself.  "Let  me  look  at  it,"  I  said,  and 
so  got  the  doll  into  my  hands.  "Bah!  it  is  a 
sorry  enough  looking  thing,  its  clothes  in  rags, 
its  nose  worn  off  (Oh,  I  knew  why,  with  how 
many  low  croonings,  and  sweet,  sweet  child 
kisses.) — Still,  how  much  do  you  want?" 

"A  peso."    The  crowd  laughed  again. 

I  kept  an  eye  on  them  to  see  how  their  tem- 
per ran  as  I  continued  my  barter.  Some  by- 
stander, for  sheer  waggery,  might  defeat  my 
purpose. 

"A  peso''  I  cried  in  feigned  scorn.  "And 
pray  how  does  it  happen,  Senor,  that  so  val- 


LEY  FUGA  117 

uable  an  object  falls  into  your  hands?  I  did 
not  know  that  you  made  prisoners  of  girls !" 

"Girls  indeed!  And  he  bargaining  for  a 
doll  himself.  Why  not  a  boy,  my  lad?" 

"Oh,  as  to  that,  who  wouldn't  want  so  lovely 
a  thing?"  I  held  up  the  doll  for  the  crowd  to 
see,  and  got  my  laugh  in  turn.  "But  what- 
sized  lads,  then,  are  you  in  the  habit  of  keep- 
ing? I  shall  begin  to  fear  you,  my  friend." 

The  guard  evidently  thought  that  my  chaf- 
fing had  gone  too  far.  "Look  you,  for  a  peso 
you  may  know, — and  not  without,"  he  said 
sulkily. 

I  dropped  my  banter  at  once.  "Bastante,™ 
here  are  fifty  centavos.  And  now,"  I  linked 
my  arm  in  his,  "tell  me  truly.  Is  he  a  little 
boy?  See,  I  had  a  brother  once — "  I  stopped 
and  looked  at  him. 

A  light  of  sympathy  replaced  the  cunning 
of  his  eyes.  "Is  he  dead?" 

I  could  not  answer. 

"So,"  he  said  gently,  seeming  to  consider. 
He  looked  around  carefully  and  lowered  his 


ii8  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

voice.  "The  little  fellow  in  there  is  about  the 
height  of  my  hand.  God  forgive  me!  he  is 
just  the  age  of  my  Pepito, — and  hungry.  I 
thought  to  buy  him  bread !" 


CHAPTER  IX 

FELIX  was  found! 
For  just  such  an  opportunity  as  this 
the  Padre  had  saved  our  centavos,  day  by  day, 
and  Ramon  had  added  to  them. 

"Come,"  said  I.  "My  father,"— this  being 
the  relationship  the  good  Padre  gave  out  as 
existing  between  us, — "has  also  a  most  tender 
heart.  Let  us  see  what  we  can  do  together 
for  that  poor  child." 

He  followed  me  to  the  booth,  which  was  de- 
serted by  customers  both  because  of  the  recent 
storm,  and  because  of  the  daily  siesta  69  hour. 

"Father,"  said  I,  "see  this  doll  I  have  bought. 
It  belongs  to  a  little  boy  in  the  prison.  This 
man  says  he  is  hungry  and  sick." 

Padre  Francisco  looked  at  me  as  he  took  the 
doll  in  his  hands,  and  I  saw  that  he  understood. 

Then  I  left  the  two  men  together,  and  went 

119 


120  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

to  give  Ramon  the  signal  we  had  agreed  upon, 
sure  that  the  Padre,  in  his  infinite  knowledge 
of  the  human  heart,  could  unlock  those  frown- 
ing prison  gates.  By  some  means  I  knew, 
when  I  next  saw  him,  he  would  have  Felix  in 
his  arms. 

For  the  last  time  I  passed  through  the  mar- 
ket, doffing  my  hat  to  the  salutations  of  the 
sleepy-eyed  women  in  the  booths,  whom  I  had 
come  to  know  so  well,  and  out  into  the  sun- 
drenched streets.  The  clattering  trams  and 
the  engines  that  puffed  and  shifted  importu- 
nately about  the  station,  were  the  only  things 
moving,  it  seemed,  in  all  the  city,  besides  my- 
self. The  long  windows  of  the  houses  were 
shuttered,  and  even  the  store  fronts  were  put 
up  against  the  glare  of  light.  I  hurried 
silently  along  in  my  sandals,  past  the  Palacio 
de  Gobernacion™  the  cathedral,  across  the 
Paseo,71  and  on  to  the  barracks.  Ramon 
would  not  be  there  until  the  bugles  blew  for  the 
parade  at  four.  But  in  the  stables  was  an- 
other friend  whom  I  was  sure  of  finding,  Ra- 


LEY  FUGA  121 

mon's  coal-black  horse,  Mogul.  Many  a  time 
had  I  slipped  into  his  stall,  just  as  I  was  doing 
to-day,  with  bits  of  sugar-cane  tucked  into  my 
hat  or  belt,  to  feel  his  soft  nose  hunt  them  and 
see  the  pleasure  he  expressed  so  well  with  his 
quick  ears  and  liquid  eyes. 

But  it  was  with  a  new  feeling  of  proprietor- 
ship that  I  stroked  Mogul's  silky  neck  and  fed 
him  his  sweets  this  day.  As  I  whispered  in 
his  ear,  he  too  knew  the  difference;  perhaps, 
who  knows,  he  understood  that  on  him  hung 
the  lives  of  those  I  loved  most  in  the  world, 
Felix  and  the  Padre  and  Ramon? 

But  I  could  not  linger.  With  a  final  caress, 
I  took  my  blue  cotton  head-band  and  tied  it  to 
Mogul's  bridle  that  was  hanging  in  the  stall. 
This  was  the  signal  we  had  agreed  on,  in  case 
Felix  was  found.  As  I  knotted  the  cloth  in 
place,  I  thought  it  a  fortunate  omen  that  it  was 
of  blue,  the  color  of  the  Virgin.  I  prayed 
silently,  "Mary,  Mother  of  God,  save  us !"  Mo- 
gul nosed  my  hand,  and  I  was  gone. 

The  plans  we  had  perfected  for  our  flight 


122  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

during  our  months  of  waiting  were  complete 
in  every  detail.  An  unoccupied  adobe  hut  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  town,  which  Ramon  had 
rented  long  since,  was  my  next  destination. 
Down  the  long  streets,  now  beginning  to  be 
shaded  by  the  westering  sun,  I  trudged.  The 
houses  on  either  side  opened  their  eyes,  as  it 
were,  in  lifted  shutters  and  unbarred  gates,  to 
the  cooler  air,  and  the  sleepers  came  to  life. 
As  well  hidden  by  the  crowd  as  by  the  previous 
solitude,  I  arrived  at  length  at  our  hut. 

For  an  instant,  so  great  was  my  suspense, 
I  almost  swooned.  The  shutters  were  fas- 
tened; the  door  was  locked;  to  all  appearances 
the  house  was  still  tenantless.  Yet  even  as  I 
looked  my  heart  leaped  within  me ;  the  dust  on 
the  latch  bore  the  imprint  of  a  thumb.  To  my 
whistle,  the  cry  of  the  plover,  so  familiar  about 
our  old  home,  the  Padre  opened  the  door.  I 
stumbled  in  and  fell  on  my  knees  beside  the 
cot  where  my  precious  Felix  lay.  It  was  more 
by  touch  than  by  sight  that  I  found  him,  in 
the  dim  light,  and  gathered  him  into  my  arms. 


LEY  FUGA  123 

The  Padre  had  told  him  that  I  was  coming; 
in  fact,  he  said  afterwards  it  was  only  the 
repetition  of  my  name  which  had  roused  the 
sick  child  from  the  torpor  in  which  he  found 
him.  Possibly  the  guard  had  drugged  him  to 
prevent  his  crying  out,  though  the  Padre,  who 
kept  his  hand  on  Felix's  slow,  slow  pulse,  was 
inclined  to  think  that  starvation  was  a  suffi- 
cient cause  for  his  weakness.  His  only  sign 
of  recognition  was  the  utter  content  with  which 
his  head  turned  and  rested  upon  my  breast. 
The  sweetness  of  that  pressure,  I  shall  never, 
never  forget. 

It  was  well  for  me  that  I  could  not  then  see 
what  the  next  day's  light  revealed,  the  hollow 
circles  beneath  the  long  lashes,  and  the  little 
hands,  so  transparent  that  the  bones  showed 
through  the  flesh.  Otherwise,  I  should  not 
have  had  the  courage  to  let  the  Padre  leave 
me,  as  he  did  soon,  to  continue  his  journey  on 
foot;  nor  indeed,  to  undertake  our  own  flight 
that  night. 

"Remember,"   Padre   Francisco  whispered. 


124  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

"Give  him  a  little  of  the  white  of  egg  and  wine 
in  this  cup  every  hour  and  a  spoonful  of  medi- 
cine every  alternate  hour  until  you  start,  and 
do  not  lose  courage.  Ramon  should  be  here 
in  four  hours  now,  and  you  will  find  me 
waiting  for  you  at  the  Pass  of  the  Holy 
Cross." 

A  changed  quality  in  the  Padre's  voice 
caught  my  ear,  long  accustomed  to  the  Indian 
patois  he  had  adopted  to  further  our  disguise. 
As  his  outline  showed  in  the  open  door,  I 
realized  that  he  had  changed  his  peasant  dress 
as  well,  and  had  resumed  his  cassock  and  cowl. 
With  the  child  in  my  arms,  I  knelt  and  kissed 
the  crucifix  hanging  from  his  girdle. 

"O  my  father,  bless  us  both,"  I  implored, 
"before  you  go." 

He  raised  his  hands  and  eyes  in  benediction, 
and  went  out  into  the  night. 

Comforted  by  the  Padre's  familiar  voice 
and  touch  and  by  the  blessing  he  had  invoked, 
I  laid  Felix,  still  sleeping,  on  the  cot,  and  com- 
pleted my  own  preparations  for  the  journey. 


LEY  FUGA  125 

It  touched  me  greatly  to  find  that  the  child 
had  already  been  washed  and  dressed.  The 
candle,  which  with  the  darkness  we  had  been 
compelled  to  light,  showed  him,  alas,  how  wan 
and  pale,  in  the  little  suit  I  had  made  and  hid- 
den for  him  there !  So  thoughtfully  the  Padre 
had  done  the  office  of  a  nurse,  sparing  me  the 
responsibility  of  disturbing  my  darling's  rest 
and  the  shock  of  finding  how  thin  he  had 
grown. 

As  for  myself,  I  had  only  to  slip  from  my 
white  trousers  and  coat  and  resume  my  blouse 
and  skirt.  Over  my  short  hair  I  threw  a 
rebozo  72  in  place  of  my  steeple  hat,  tied  up 
the  discarded  garments  with  the  bundle  of  nec- 
essary articles  we  had  hidden  here  from  time 
to  time,  and  sat  down  beside  the  cot  once  more 
to  wait  for  Ramon. 

As  I  waited,  measuring  the  passing  of  time 
by  the  burning  of  the  candle,  my  mind  busied 
itself  with  conjectures  about  the  outlaw  life  to 
which  we  were  committed  through  no  crime 
of  ours,  and  the  terrible  dangers  to  which  it 


126  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

exposed  us.  The  Padre  had  decided  that  our 
safest  course  lay  to  the  southward,  across  the 
lake,  and  up  into  the  mountains  beyond. 
There,  so  steep  were  the  barrancas,  and  so 
poor  and  little  traveled  the  trails,  that  even 
the  bandidos 73  had  no  fastnesses.  It  was  a 
country  well  known  to  him  in  his  earlier  mis- 
sionary journeyings  among  the  wild  tribes  of 
Indians  with  whom  he  had  lived  before  he 
went  to  Cuba,  or  knew  Dona  Marina,  or  came 
to  the  hacienda  with  her.  In  inaccessible 
upland  valleys  around — as  yet — uncoveted 
springs,  some  Indians  of  our  own  race  still 
lingered.  But  for  long  leagues  the  mountains 
were  totally  uninhabited  save  by  the  wild  crea- 
tures of  the  wilderness.  The  spot  he  had 
chosen  for  our  home,  he  described  to  Ramon 
and  me  with  great  beauty  of  language,  until 
it  seemed  to  us,  by  contrast  with  the  squalid 
lodgings  in  Lerma,  as  unreally  lovely  as  a 
dream.  But  now,  with  Felix  at  last  beside  me, 
might  not  the  dream  come  true  ? 

It  did  not  occur  to  me  to  fear,  except  for 


LEY  FUGA  127 

Felix,  so  absolute  was  my  faith  in  the  Padre 
and  Ramon.  As  the  night  wore  on,  even  this 
anxiety  relaxed  with  the  stronger  beating  of 
his  heart,  and  the  evident  ease  of  his  slumber. 
About  midnight,  my  ears,  sharpened  by  the 
constant  dangers  of  the  past  six  months,  caught 
the  soft  thud,  thud  of  unshod  hoofs  on  the 
road  from  Lerma.  I  snuffed  out  my  candle 
and  waited.  Presently  the  hoof  beats  ceased; 
there  was  a  scuffling  of  light  sand  in  the  court- 
yard, followed  by  Ramon's  familiar  tap  on  the 
door. 

He  paused  for  nothing  save  a  brief  "Is  all 
well,  hermanita?"  74  and  .went  out  again  to  tie 
the  bundles  of  provisions  to  the  saddle.  Felix, 
roused  from  his  sleep  by  the  disturbance,  be- 
gan to  whimper. 

In  an  instant  Ramon  was  back.  "Pobrecito, 
pobrecito,"  he  crooned.  "There,  there,  do  not 
cry.  See,  it  is  I,  your  Ramon.  I  take  you  so, 
in  my  arms,  gently,  gently.  All  night  you 
shall  lie  in  them  safe  and  warm.  So,  pobre- 
cito, hush!" 


128  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

I  meantime  had  finished  the  lading  of  the 
saddle  and  locked  the  door  of  our  refuge, 
in  which  no  trace  of  our  occupancy  was 
left.  Ramon,  scarcely  touching  the  stirrup, 
sprang  into  the  saddle.  I  mounted  behind 
him. 

"Now,  Mogul,"  said  the  master,  "go." 

The  horse,  which  had  stood  with  the  still- 
ness of  a  statue  until  he  heard  this  word  of 
command,  moved  lightly  and  swiftly  as  a 
shadow,  out  of  the  gate  and  along  the  starlit 
road.  So  even  was  the  motion  that  Felix, 
lulled  as  if  in  a  cradle,  drifted  again  into 
blessed  sleep. 

When  we  were  entirely  free  of  the  city,  and 
out  on  the  open  plain,  Ramon  began  to  speak 
softly.  "See  you  now,  Porfiria,  why  I  took 
such  pains  with  the  horse?  In  all  the  com- 
mand, there  is  no  pacer  like  him.  And  the 
best  of  it  is,  no  one  knows  that  he  can  pace. 
Even  if  I  were  followed  to  the  hut — which  I 
doubt — our  pursuers  from  there  on  will  find 
no  trace  of  galloping  hoofs." 


LEY  FUGA  129 

"But  the  dogs,  my  brother?" 

Ramon  suppressed  something  like  a  sob. 
"It  is  for  that,  as  you  know,  that  we  must  leave 
Mogul  at  the  shore  and  trust  ourselves  to  the 
boat.  I  shall  not  be  missed  till  morning.  By 
that  time,  God  willing,  he  should  be  well  back 
toward  Lerma,  and  we,"  he  wet  his  finger  and 
held  it  up  to  discover  the  direction  of  the  wind, 
"already  far  out  on  the  lake." 

"The  boat,  you  are  sure  it  is  safe,  then?" 

"Last  week  when  I  rode  down  to  see  it,  yes. 
I  put  into  it  then  some  tools  I  had  not  thought 
to  carry  with  me  before.  If  it  has  been  dis- 
covered and  stolen, — we  will  still  try  with  Mo- 
gul." He  leaned  forward  to  whisper  in  the 
horse's  delicate  ears. 

Mogul's  hoofs  became  even  more  noiseless, 
as  he  listened.  I  doubt  if  he  could  have  been 
detected  ten  feet  away  by  any  save  an  Indian. 
We,  too,  became  silent.  We  were  approach- 
ing the  foothills  of  the  mountains  that  lay  be- 
tween us  and  the  lake.  In  and  out  of  the 
shadows,  now  upward,  now  down  the  sides  of 


130  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

bottomless  barrancas,  we  wound  till  we  neared 
the  break  in  the  range  known  as  the  Pass  of  the 
Holy  Cross.  There  the  Padre,  who  had  by 
that  time  eight  hours  the  start  of  us,  should  be 
waiting.  From  that  point  the  mountains 
dipped  abruptly  to  the  lake. 

As  we  traveled  thus  the  trail  which  the 
Padre  and  I  found  so  long,  I  wondered  if  even 
yet  his  strength  would  suffice  to  make  this 
journey  of  ten  leagues  in  one  night.  It  was 
with  utter  thankfulness,  therefore,  that  we 
came  upon  him,  immovable  and  well-nigh 
invisible  in  his  dark  habit,  seated  on  the 
pile  of  stones  beneath  the  cross  which  marked 
the  last  resting  place  of  some  traveler  less  for- 
tunate than  we.  The  cross  above  this  spot, 
mute  witness  where  some  foul  murder  had  in 
all  probability  been  committed,  gave  to  the  Pass 
its  name. 

Here  I  dismounted,  and  the  weary  Padre 
took  my  seat.  The  trail  now  descended  so 
abruptly  that  my  nimble  feet  were  well  able 


LEY  FUGA  131 

to  keep  pace  with  those  of  Mogul,  as  he  picked 
his  way,  with  infinite  care,  down  the  steep 
mountain  side.  Even  so,  Felix's  sleep  was 
broken  by  the  short,  uneasy  steps,  and  he  be- 
gan to  moan.  We  made  a  little  halt  while  the 
Padre  gave  him  a  stimulating  drink.  Then  I 
wrapped  my  darling  in  the  folds  of  my  rebozo, 
bound  the  ends  over  my  shoulders,  and  carried 
him  thus  on  my  back. 

In  this  way  the  last  league  of  our  journey 
was  accomplished.  The  first  gray  of  dawn 
found  us  on  the  shore.  There,  in  the  bamboo 
thicket  where  the  Padre  and  I  had  left  it,  lay 
our  boat.  We  baled  it  out,  placed  on  the  bot- 
tom dry  petates  and  on  them  our  provisions. 
It  only  remained  for  Ramon  to  turn  Mogul 
loose  before  we  embarked. 

Despite  the  thanksgiving  in  all  our  hearts 
for  the  rescue  of  Felix  and  the  auspicious  be- 
ginning of  our  flight,  Ramon  felt  sorrow  as 
well  in  parting  from  his  beloved  horse.  To 
reward  with  ingratitude  the  devotion  of  two 


132  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

years,  during  which  Mogul  had  been  his  faith- 
ful companion,  seemed  unbearable.  Ramon 
stood  for  a  moment  by  his  head,  unbuckled  his 
bridle,  and  led  him  to  the  lake  to  drink.  Then 
from  his  pockets  he  drew  a  little  hoard  of 
sugar  cane  stalks,  and  fed  them  to  him  bit  by 
bit.  Last  he  ungirthed  the  saddle  and  threw 
it,  with  the  bridle,  into  the  boat.  Behind  us 
we  must  leave  nothing,  horse  or  trappings,  by 
which  our  flight  might  be  traced.  We  were 
fugitives  from  justice  now;  and  the  hard  law 
of  the  fugitive  is  that  he  who  is  caught  may 
be  shot. 

"Adios,  my  friend,"  I  heard  Ramon  say. 
His  lips  brushed  the  broad  forehead  between 
those  honest  eyes.  With  a  quick  cut  of  the 
fingers  he  sent  the  horse  galloping  up  the 
trail. 

Long  after  our  boat  had  caught  the  breeze, 
and  Felix  was  again  rocked  to  sleep,  I  fancied 
I  heard  that  wild  flight  of  Mogul's  up  the  steep 
mountain  side.  In  Ramon's  heart,  how  much 


LEY  FUGA  133 

louder  it  must  have  echoed !  Yet  he  said  noth- 
ing, only,  when  he  dropped  the  saddle  over- 
board presently  into  the  deep  water,  I  saw  two 
tears  fall  also. 


CHAPTER  X 

ALL  day  we  held  our  course  across  the  lake 
toward  the  little  harbor  on  the  opposite 
shore  that  the  Padre  had  in  mind.  Often  we 
looked  behind  us  for  a  pursuing  sail,  but  there 
was  none.  Though  it  was  not  probable,  in  the 
uncertain  policies  of  the  hour,  that  we  should 
be  followed,  the  Padre  thought  it  wisest  to  risk 
no  delay.  Toward  evening  the  breeze  died 
down,  and  he  and  Ramon  had  several  hours  of 
heavy  sculling  before  we  made  port.  In  the 
darkness  we  unloaded  our  scant  possessions  on 
the  shore.  Then  Ramon  shoved  off  the  boat 
and  scuttled  it.  It  was  impossible  for  us,  ex- 
hausted as  we  were,  to  go  further  that  night. 
Sheltering  ourselves  as  best  we  could  under 
some  spreading  trees,  we  fell  asleep,  for  what 
might  be  the  last  time  in  our  lives,  to  the  music 
of  the  lake. 

Felix    wakened    me    the    next    morning. 
134 


LEY  FUGA  135 

"Mama,  Mama,"  he  was  crying,  "do  not  leave 
me  with  Lola.  Take  me  with  you."  His  ter- 
rified voice  rose  to  a  scream. 

In  an  instant,  my  arms  were  around  him. 
Soothed  by  my  kisses,  he  woke  from  his  ter- 
rible dream,  and  sobbed  brokenly,  with  soft 
brushings  of  my  neck  with  his  fingers,  to  as- 
sure himself  that  I  really  held  him  as  I  said. 
In  all  the  months  that  followed,  it  was  only  by 
such  occasional  outbreaks  that  we  learned  any- 
thing of  the  cruelties  he  had  undergone,  or  of 
those  who  perpetrated  them.  We  never  ques- 
tioned him,  hoping  that  he  might  forget;  and 
in  his  waking  moments,  aside  from  the  haunt- 
ing fear  that  sometimes  sat  in  his  eyes,  he  gave 
no  clew.  Better  so.  Of  the  living  he  could 
tell  us  nothing;  of  the  sufferings  of  the  dead, 
God  rest  her  soul,  it  were  well  if  he  never  had 
to  know. 

Our  journey  from  the  shore  to  our  final  des- 
tination, high  up  among  the  mountains,  was 
but  a  repetition,  for  a  longer  period,  of  inci- 
dents similar  to  those  I  had  undergone  in  my 


136  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

flight  with  the  Padre  to  Lerma.  Our  speed 
was  impeded  by  the  sick  child,  for  whose  food 
Ramon  and  the  Padre  foraged  as  we  went,  and 
by  the  weight  of  the  burdens  which  we  carried. 
Sometimes  our  food  consisted  of  a  drink  of 
goat's  milk,  stolen  from  the  charge  of  some  un- 
wary goatherd,  or  the  more  delicate  milk  of 
the  cocoa-nut,  or  the  eggs  of  a  nesting  quail. 
We  traveled  in  the  early  morning  and  late 
afternoon,  resting  through  the  heat  of  the  day, 
until  we  left  behind  us  the  tierra  caliente™ 
and  entered  the  uplands  of  the  tierra  tem- 
plada™  Here,  mingled  with  the  more  tropical 
foliage  with  which  Ramon  and  I  were  familiar, 
were  to  be  found  trees  that  were  new  to  us, — 
the  oak,  the  mountain  ash,  the  juniper,  and  the 
long-needled  pine.  Small  game  was  abundant, 
as  were  birds  of  many  kinds.  By  setting  traps 
around  the  springs  where  we  camped,  we  were 
able  to  catch  all  that  we  needed.  Still  upward 
we  climbed;  and  now  the  nights  became  cold; 
the  cacti  and  mesquite  of  the  arid  lowlands  no 
longer  appeared,  but  were  replaced  by  meadows 


LEY  FUGA  137 

green  with  grass  or  bright  with  flowers  and 
set  in  noble  groves.  Water  flowed  abundantly 
from  snow-fed  sources;  yet  the  land  was  un- 
inhabited. Infrequently  we  skirted  Indian 
hamlets,  or  saw  some  lone  herder ;  but  we  our- 
selves went  unseen. 

At  sunset  one  day  we  came  at  last  to  the 
spot  which  Padre  Francisco  had  selected  for 
our  home.  It  was  a  cleft  in  the  very  top  of  a 
lofty  mountain  range.  To  reach  it,  we  had 
passed  the  timber  line  on  the  cold  northern 
slopes,  and  traversed  a  ridge  which  was  blue 
with  fringed  gentians,  and  low-growing  huc- 
kleberries. From  this  growth  the  crown  of 
the  mountain  rose,  a  mass  of  precipitous  rocks, 
pierced  by  a  narrow  defile  no  wider  than  a 
door.  Even  this  opening  would  have  been  in- 
conspicuous to  one  who  did  not  know  it.  But 
the  Padre  knew  it  well.  With  his  machete  he 
cleared  a  passage  way  through  a  huge,  en- 
tangling vine.  Along  the  edge  of  the  tiny 
brook,  whose  waters  in  long  centuries  had 
worn  this  little  gorge,  we  followed  him. 


138  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

The  Padre  drew  aside  presently  and  held  out 
his  arms.  "Behold,  my  children,  here  is  our 
home;  here  is  La  Paz,"  T7  he  said. 

Peace  indeed  brooded  over  the  little  valley 
that  spread  before  us  in  the  slanting  beams  of 
the  sunset.  Open  to  the  southward,  and  slop- 
ing gently  to  the  cliffs  that  formed  a  sheer  de- 
scent on  that  side,  it  seemed  made  to  catch  and 
hold  in  its  green  bowl  the  warmth  of  summer 
here  on  the  very  mountain  tops.  A  shimmer 
of  dancing  aspen  leaves  canopied  the  gray  cliffs 
to  the  north,  wherever  the  slender  trees  could 
lodge;  grass  and  ferns  carpeted  the  ground, 
and  spread  upward  in  crannies  and  crevices 
about  the  roots  of  the  trees.  Toward  the  west- 
ern end,  opposite  the  entrance,  was  the  source 
of  the  trickling  brook,  in  a  clear  deep  spring. 
Around  it  grew  a  cluster  of  cottonwood  trees. 
The  entire  valley,  I  suppose,  was  not  more  than 
one  hectare 78  in  area ;  all  its  beauty  was  spread 
before  us  at  a  glance. 

Ramon  was  the  first  to  voice  the  admiration 


LEY  FUGA  139 

of  our  hearts.  "How  beautiful!"  he  ex- 
claimed, "and  how  safe!" 

"Wait,  there  is  more  to  see,  and  I  must  show 
it  to  you  while  there  is  still  light."  The  Padre 
scanned  the  ground  eagerly.  "Strange  that  no 
wild  beasts  seem  ever  to  have  made  their  lairs 
here.  See,  here  are  only  the  tracks  of  harm- 
less deer.  It  was  so  when  I  visited  the  valley 
last.  But  I  want  to  make  doubly  sure  ere 
night  falls.  Ramon,  come  with  me." 

He  preceded  Ramon  for  a  few  feet  along 
the  northern  wall  of  cliffs,  stopped  abruptly, 
and  began  to  tear  away  a  mass  of  morning- 
glory  vines.  Ramon,  pistol  in  hand,  watched 
the  work  while  Felix  and  I  waited  at  the  en- 
trance. Soon  the  Padre  called  us,  in  a  voice 
that  assured  us  that  all  was  well.  We  ran  to 
the  morning-glory  vine,  and  stepped  through 
the  opening  we  found  there  into  a  fairy  world. 

The  grotto  we  entered  was  not  large,  but  of 
dazzling  splendor,  because  of  the  crystals  of 
copper  of  which  its  walls  and  ceiling  were 


THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

made ;  studded  in  places  as  if  with  gold,  fretted 
into  azure  fringes,  or  hung  with  draperies  of 
softest  green,  its  beauty  was  almost  super- 
natural. The  whole  cave  formed  a  shallow 
room,  from  which  two  other  apartments  might 
be  said  to  open  off,  such  was  the  effect  given  by 
the  curiously  eroded  pillars  which  divided  the 
space.  All  three  rooms  were  roughly  parallel 
with  the  valley,  and  opened  on  it  in  irregular 
perforations,  hidden  from  the  outside  by  vines. 
In  fact,  the  whole  might  be  described  as  a  vine- 
hung  portico.  Of  this  place,  so  evidently  suit- 
able for  our  temporary  home,  the  dear  Padre, 
in  all  his  descriptions  of  the  valley,  had  told  us 
nothing. 

He  and  Ramon  were  in  one  of  the  inner 
rooms  when  we  broke  in  upon  them. 

"But,  Father,"  I  cried,  unable  to  contain  my 
wonder,  "why  in  your  stories  of  our  valley,  did 
you  never  mention  this?" 

The  Padre  laughed  outright,  and  caught  up 
Felix  to  his  shoulder,  so  that  he  might  examine 
a  portion  of  the  crystal  arches  with  his  hands. 


LEY  FUGA  141 

"Partly  because  I  could  not  quite  trust  my 
memory.  It  might  be  damp,  it  might  be  a 
cave  of  tigres,  it  might  have  been  defaced  by 
the  Indians,  who  used  to  come  and  worship 
here, — quien  sake?"  79  His  words  were  spoken 
with  an  exasperating  drawl.  "And  partly, 
without  doubt,  because  I  wished  to  give  my 
three  dear  children  a  most  lovely  surprise. 
Tell  me,  are  you  not  quite  satisfied  ?" 

Satisfaction  hardly  expressed  our  feelings 
as  we  sat  around  the  campfire  that  night  and 
discussed  the  possibilities  of  our  new  home. 
As  a  precaution  against  wild  intruders,  we  had 
barred  the  entrance  to  the  valley  with  a  breast- 
work of  hastily  gathered  stones.  Against  the 
cold,  we  drew  around  our  shoulders  the  heavy 
sarapes  we  had  brought  with  us.  Long  after 
Felix  fell  asleep  in  the  little  petate  hammock 
we  were  in  the  habit  of  hanging  for  him  each 
night,  we  still  talked,  Ramon  rising  now  and 
then  to  throw  fresh  wood  on  the  fire,  and  the 
tiny  glen  lightening  and  darkening  with  the 
leaping  flames.  Above  us  the  stars  passed  so 


142  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

close  that  it  seemed  as  if  we  could  touch  them 
by  reaching  out  our  hands.  In  the  great,  un- 
broken stillness  to  southward,  the  Southern 
Cross  kept  watch. 

The  month  that  followed  saw  the  comple- 
tion of  many  of  the  plans  we  made  that  night ; 
the  uneven  floor  of  the  grottoes  leveled  with 
hard-trodden  earth;  one  of  the  apertures  in 
the  middle  room  converted,  by  means  of  a  rude 
chimney,  into  a  fireplace;  bedsteads  fashioned 
of  tree  trunks  and  interlaced  vines;  and  such 
openings  as  we  wanted  to  use  only  for  win- 
dows, built  up  to  a  good  height  with  stones  and 
latticed  with  bamboo.  Over  the  main  en- 
trance, Ramon  also  built  an  arbor  to  shade  us 
somewhat  from  the  sun,  and  to  its  inner  side 
fitted  a  door  made  of  saplings.  Thus  our 
home  became  comfortable  and  secure. 

Our  furnishings  were  naturally  meager, 
consisting  of  the  few  petates,  baskets  and  ollas 
we  had  been  able  to  carry  on  our  backs,  besides 
the  sarapes,  which  we  also  used  as  cloaks. 
The  main  room,  partitioned  off  by  withes  be- 


LEY  FUGA  143 

tween  the  pillars,  was  our  living-room  and 
kitchen,  and  as  the  nights  grew  colder  through 
the  autumn,  we  were  glad  indeed  of  its  grate- 
ful warmth.  My  chamber,  which  Felix 
shared,  opened  nearest  the  fireplace;  the  third 
was  occupied  by  the  Padre  and  Ramon.  By 
day  the  cool,  green  vines,  garlanded  each  morn- 
ing by  flower-discs  of  blue,  cast  a  pleasing 
shadow  over  our  glittering  walls ;  but  by  night, 
the  fire  played  on  each  crystal  till  the  splendor 
was  well  nigh  blinding  to  our  eyes.  Many  a 
night,  when  we  thought  the  fire  was  out,  some 
charred  brand  flaring  into  life  waked  us  with 
its  reflected  radiance.  At  length,  despite  the 
protests  of  Felix,  to  whom  our  cave  was  by 
turns  a  Moorish  palace  or  the  dwelling,  as  the 
Padre  said  the  Indians  thought,  of  the  God  of 
the  Mountains,  we  daubed  the  chamber  walls 
with  ashes  and  mud. 

The  entrance  to  our  valley  was  now  fitted 
with  a  strong,  wicket  gate.  Beyond  this  point 
Felix  never  ventured,  except  with  me,  to  pick 
berries  or  to  gather  flowers.  But  as  we  de- 


144  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

pended  almost  entirely  on  hunting  and  trap- 
ping for  our  meat,  and  on  wild  fruits,  nuts  and 
herbs  for  our  other  food,  it  was  necessary  for 
the  Padre  or  Ramon  to  make  frequent  excur- 
sions into  the  forest  below.  The  rainy  summer 
was  by  this  time  past  and  was  succeeded,  day 
after  day,  by  clear  and  ever  colder  sunlight. 
As  autumn  advanced,  and  the  moisture  in  the 
lower  valleys  lessened,  we  began  to  notice  more 
tracks  of  little  creatures  which  came  and  went 
through  our  barrier  to  reach  the  spring;  rab- 
bits, squirrels,  chipmunks  and  sorillos,80  and 
among  their  imprints  about  the  entrance  the 
larger  ones  of  deer  and  antelope  unable  to  get 
in.  These  fearless  beings  we  did  not  eat, 
though  sometimes  we  were  tempted  by  hunger. 
They  became  the  playmates  of  little  Felix. 
Even  the  deer  and  the  antelope  grew  so  tame 
that  they  ate  out  of  his  hand.  Birds  also  came 
to  winter  with  us,  and  ate  of  the  berries  and 
fruits  we  had  spread  out  to  dry  for  our  own 
use.  But  we  begrudged  them  nothing. 

The  joy  of  the  child  in  our  society  and  that 


LEY  FUGA 

of  his  pets  was  only  equaled  by  our  joy  in  his 
returning  health.  Each  morning  brought 
fresher  color  to  his  cheeks,  and  clearer  depths 
to  his  gray  eyes,  that  danced  with  laughter 
also,  like  the  sunlight  in  our  spring. 

In  our  hearts  too,  sadness  and  anxiety  had 
grown  mellow.  The  turbulent  world  was  far 
away.  Though  our  thoughts  and  prayers 
went  forth  often  in  quest  of  Don  Luis  and  the 
scattered  remnant  of  our  Village  of  the  Shield, 
we  rested  gratefully  in  the  happiness  of  our 
little  valley.  Like  the  bleak  mountains  about 
us,  we  hoarded  our  sunshine  there. 


CHAPTER  XI 

ONE  night  while  we  slept,  came  the  first 
frost  of  the  year.  It  was  also  the  first 
frost  that  we,  except  Padre  Francisco,  had 
ever  seen.  Felix,  who  never  tired  of  watch- 
ing the  opening  and  closing  of  the  blue  Virgin's 
Mantles  that  clambered  over  our  windows, 
noticed  that  the  beautiful  blossoms  were  dead. 
The  havoc  wrought  by  this  intruder,  which  no 
wicket  could  keep  out,  was  more  apparent  when 
he  and  I  went  to  get  water  at  the  spring. 
Everywhere  the  tender  stalks  of  herbs  and 
flowers  had  burst  with  the  severity  of  the  cold, 
their  lifeblood  congealed  in  fantastic  shapes 
of  ice.  The  ferns  lay  blackened;  the  aspens 
and  cottonwoods  had  turned  to  gold.  The 
spring  itself  was  rimmed  with  delicate  tracer- 
ies such  as  I  had  never  seen  before. 

Felix  ran  hither  and  thither,  to  keep  warm 

as  well  as  to  examine  the  wonders  the  night 

146 


LEY  FUGA  147 

had  wrought.  He  returned  to  the  cave  laden 
with  some  fragile  formations  which  looked  like 
flowers  of  ice. 

I  was  already  at  the  hearth,  toasting  the 
cakes  of  pounded  chestnuts  which  we  ate  in 
place  of  tortillas  now  that  our  corn  meal  was 
gone.  He  came  and  laid  his  strange  blossoms 
in  my  lap. 

"See,  'Firia,  what  I  have  brought  you.  Do 
you  know  what  I  think  ?"  he  lowered  his  voice. 
"You  call  it  frost, — but  I  almost  saw  God  mak- 
ing these,  the  way  he  made  the  cave.  It  is  all 
alike  now,  there  and  here." 

"What  is  this  I  hear?"  asked  the  Padre, 
stepping  from  his  room. 

Felix  stood  very  straight,  and  grave,  and 
wise.  "I  only  said  I  thought  God  must  be  out 
there,  making  another  cave."  His  gaze  re- 
turned from  the  crystal  ceiling,  to  which  he 
had  raised  it,  to  the  ice-crystals  he  had  laid 
in  my  lap.  "See, — but  'Firia,  where  are 
they?"  he  broke  off  in  consternation. 

The  ice-crystals  had  melted  by  the  fire,  even 


148  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

as  the  lovely  crystalline  valley  melted  shortly 
in  the  sun. 

Felix  pondered  and  the  Padre  kept  silence. 
Presently,  "Padredto?1  tell  me,  will  He  then 
melt  our  cave?" 

"No,  my  Felix,  not  to-day,  nor  to-morrow. 
But  come,  and  I  will  begin  to  tell  you,  little 
son,  how  the  great  world  is  made." 

That  morning  at  the  beginning  of  the  cold, 
as  winter  is  called  with  us,  began  also  Felix's 
schooling.  Nor  were  Ramon  and  I  neglected 
by  the  Padre,  who  in  the  long  days  as  we 
worked,  or  in  the  happy  firelit  evenings, 
brought  forth  for  us  from  his  great  learning, 
treasures  new  and  old.  So,  many  a  night,  as  I 
sewed  the  rabbit  skins  that  Ramon  had  tanned, 
into  a  warm  coat  for  Felix,  or  a  cap  for  Ra- 
mon, I  listened  to  the  story  of  the  Cid  and 
Charlemagne.  And  when  Ramon,  making 
shepherd's  pipes,  interrupted  at  intervals  to 
test  their  pitch,  I  heard  in  their  mellow  notes 
the  battle-bugles  of  Roland  and  Moctadir.82 
We  learned  also  of  the  more  modern  world,  of 


LEY  FUGA  149 

France,  the  Padre's  boyhood  home,  of  her 
struggles  for  liberty  when  her  plight  was  even 
as  ours,  and  of  her  heroic  victories  from  the 
time  of  Joan  of  Arc  till  now.  Listening  to 
the  Padre's  impassioned  patriotism,  and  watch- 
ing his  restless  pacing,  like  a  wild  thing  in  a 
cage,  we  understood  how  his  heart  burned  in 
sympathy  for  the  miseries  of  our  country,  and 
yearned  to  help  in  its  deliverance. 

Occasional  snows  followed  the  frost,  deep 
drifted  in  places  on  the  mountain  slopes,  but 
for  the  most  part  blown  clear  of  our  valley  by 
the  high  north  winds,  or  melted  by  the  sun. 
The  Padre  taught  Ramon  how  to  make  the 
snowshoes  he  had  seen  used  among  the  In- 
dian tribes  of  the  United  States,  far  to  the 
north.  On  these  they  slid  at  will  over  the 
slippery  crust,  hunting,  trapping,  fishing,  some- 
times venturing  down  to  the  borders  of  sum- 
mer in  valleys  leagues  below.  These  excur- 
sions yielded  a  greater  variety  of  game  than  we 
were  in  the  habit  of  killing  in  the  immediate 
vicinity  of  the  valley.  Venison,  antelope, 


150  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

trout,  even  a  stray  iguana 83  and  an  occasional 
raccoon  they  brought  back  to  me  to  cook. 

To  Ramon  and  the  Padre,  these  expeditions 
partook  sufficiently  of  adventure  to  make  them 
a  relief  from  our  circumscribed  life.  But  to 
me,  left  alone  with  Felix,  the  absence  of  our 
protectors  was  a  constant  source  of  anxiety. 
As  the  afternoon  shadows  lengthened,  a  dozen 
times  I  went  to  the  wicket,  thinking  that  the 
shaking  of  the  wind  was  our  returning  Ra- 
mon ;  or  I  climbed  the  southward  parapet  and, 
shading  my  eyes,  peered  into  the  dizzy  depths 
for  black  figures,  like  ants,  crawling  up  against 
the  snow. 

With  what  thankfulness  I  welcomed  them 
when  they  came,  and  how  doubly  sweet  were 
our  evenings  after  the  long  day  apart!  One 
such  perfect  evening  I  recall  vividly.  The 
Padre  sat  on  a  sort  of  divan  we  had  made 
along  one  side  of  the  fireplace,  and  I  on  a  low 
stool  at  his  feet.  Ramon  lay  on  some  deer- 
skins before  the  fire,  playing  softly  on  his  flute. 
Felix  I  had  put  to  bed  hours  before,  but  he 


LEY  FUGA  151 

heard  the  music  and  came  pattering  out,  sleep- 
ily holding  up  his  face  for  a  kiss.  In  one  hand 
he  held  the  battered  doll  which  Ramon  had 
made  for  him,  and  to  which  he  had  clung 
through  all  our  wanderings.  Ramon,  who 
never  could  resist  the  boy,  threw  down  his 
flute  to  gather  him  in,  close  and  warm,  beside 
the  fire. 

"I  missed  you,"  Felix  announced.  "Sancho 
and  I,  we  missed  you  much.  What  have  you 
done  all  day?" 

"Walked  many  miles,  little  one,  and  brought 
you,  see !"  He  drew  from  a  pouch  at  his  belt 
a  wilted,  fragrant  saxifrage. 

"But  where  did  you  find  it?"  asked  Felix 
after  he  had  sniffed  it  delightedly,  offered  it 
to  the  doll,  and  passed  it  on  for  me  and  the 
Padre  to  enjoy. 

"Not  so  far  away;  and  if  you  are  not  too 
sleepy,  I  will  tell  you  a  secret, — and  then  you 
may  tell  it,  if  you  like,  to  Porfiria." 

"And  to  Padre  Francisco?" 

"The  Padre  knows  it  already;  we  found  it 


152  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

together  where  this  flower  grows.  Listen." 
Ramon  began  to  whisper,  the  child's  eyes 
growing  big  and  dark. 

Presently  he  leaned  over  and  put  his  soft 
mouth  to  my  ear.  "Ramon  says  he  found  this 
flower  right  here,  in  our  own  valley,  this  morn- 
ing before  he  went  away.  He  says  the  spring 
has  come!" 

It  was  true;  we  could  see  the  signs  of 
her  welcome  advent  day  by  day  in  the  swelling 
buds  of  the  trees,  the  pushing  fronds  of  the 
ferns,  and  the  delicate  fringes  of  greenery  that 
began  to  show  in  warm  and  sheltered  crannies 
everywhere.  The  birds  knew  of  the  glad 
arrival,  and  came  in  great  numbers  to  make 
their  homes  among  their  kindred  who  had 
wintered  in  the  valley  with  us.  The  sweet 
songs  of  wrens,  which  began  to  nest  in  the 
walls  of  our  small  canyon,  woke  us  before  the 
dawn;  woodpeckers,  with  bright  red  crests, 
tapped  for  insects  up  and  down  the  trees ;  king- 
fishers darted  down  to  snatch  up  the  tiny 
minnows  that  lived  in  our  brook.  Birds  of 


LEY  FUGA  153 

more  gorgeous  plumage  came  on  visits  from 
the  tropics  below.  Sometimes  a  hawk  or  an 
eagle,  soaring  overhead,  created  no  small 
excitement  among  these  feathered  guests  of 
ours.  But  except  for  such  disturbances,  they 
lived  in  harmony  with  themselves  and  with  us. 
Felix  added  them  all  to  his  family  of  pets.  I 
have  even  seen  him  stroking  the  silken  back  of 
a  green  warbler  sitting  on  her  eggs. 

By  now  the  primavera84  and  viburnum 
were  well  budded,  and  leaves  were  pushing 
from  all  the  trees.  But  alas  for  birds  and 
flowers,  we  were  yet  to  have  one  more  taste  of 
winter  ere  summer  really  came.  One  noon,  the 
south  wind  veered  to  the  north,  driving  with 
it  huge,  moist  clouds  which  enveloped  the 
mountain  top  so  densely  that  we  could  scarcely 
see  our  hands  before  our  eyes.  It  became 
bitterly  cold.  Presently  the  clouds  precipi- 
tated themselves  in  a  fine,  driving  snow.  To 
increase  our  anxiety,  Ramon  had  set  forth  in 
the  morning,  and  had  not  yet  returned.  The 
birds,  poor  things,  caught  unaware,  like  our- 


154  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

selves,  voiced  their  distress  in  blind  flutterings 
and  piercing  cries.  Felix's  doves  took  refuge 
with  us  in  the  cave,  and  many  of  the  other 
birds  followed  them.  Here  and  in  the  arbor, 
where  the  snow  did  not  fall,  Felix  scattered 
crumbs,  while  the  Padre  went  out  from  time 
to  time  and  brought  in  little  numb  bodies  to  be 
warmed  into  life  by  the  fire.  My  housekeep- 
ing was  in  confusion,  and  my  mind  was  on 
Ramon. 

It  was  useless,  as  the  Padre  said,  to  attempt 
to  find  him  in  the  snow  and  mist.  Nor  would 
any  sound  we  might  make  reach  him  through 
the  howling  of  the  storm.  Doubtless,  the 
Padre  was  right  in  thinking  he  had  found 
asylum  far  below  out  of  its  range,  or  sheltered 
himself  in  some  cave.  For  food  he  would  not 
lack,  so  long  as  he  had  his  pistol  and  the  bow 
and  arrows  which  he  also  carried  with  him. 
But  my  eyes  saw  him  falling  headlong  down 
some  unseen  precipice  or  frozen,  like  the  birds, 
in  the  snow. 

All  night  the  storm  continued.     But  toward 


LEY  FUGA  155 

morning  the  wind  fell  somewhat  and  the  snow 
ceased.  I  determined  to  try  an  expedient, 
which  I  had  thought  of  in  the  darkness,  for 
guiding  Ramon  home.  The  Padre,  who  had 
gone  out  at  intervals  through  the  night,  to  see 
that  the  mouth  of  the  ravine  was  kept  clear  in 
case  Ramon  by  a  miracle  should  be  able  to  find 
his  way,  was  sleeping.  Felix  also  slept.  I 
stole  into  the  main  room,  and  took  down  from 
its  peg  on  the  wall  a  wind  harp  which  Ramon 
had  just  finished,  intending  to  hang  it  on  one 
of  the  tall  clamllina85  trees,  and  thus  fill  our 
valley  with  harmonies  that  would  blend  with 
those  of  the  birds.  Fog,  I  knew  from  expe- 
rience on  the  lake  shore,  was  a  good  conductor 
of  sound,  and  I  would  hang  the  harp  in  the 
vines  of  the  defile,  through  which  the  wind 
might  sweep  the  sounds  far  down  the 
mountain  sides. 

I  was  preoccupied  with  my  task,  which 
was  not  an  easy  one.  Suddenly  I  was  startled 
by  Felix's  voice  rising  out  of  the  mist  behind 
me. 


156  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

"Bad  doggie,"  he  was  saying,  "go  away! 
You  have  killed  my  birds.  Go  away!" 

Dogs?  Wolves.  I  ran  blindly  toward  the 
spot  from  which  the  sounds  had  come.  Out 
of  the  mist  loomed  two  gaunt,  gray  bodies. 
Almost  within  reach  of  their  snarling  jaws 
stood  Felix,  regarding  them  with  blazing  eyes. 
A  pigeon,  all  dabbled  with  blood,  was  folded  to 
his  breast.  The  wolves,  held  by  his  gaze,  did 
not  move,  even  at  my  approach.  Before  I 
could  snatch  the  child  away,  I  heard  the 
Padre's  voice. 

"CuidadoF 

At  the  sharp  warning,  the  wolves  whirled 
and  vanished  in  the  mist.  When  the  fog 
lifted,  as  by  God's  mercy  it  did  with  the  sun, 
we  found  no  trace  of  them.  But  everywhere, 
as  the  snow  melted,  we  uncovered  the  feath- 
ered forms  of  birds.  All  morning  Felix 
busied  himself  in  the  gathering  of  these.  I 
could  but  help  him,  distressed  as  he  was  by 
grief.  Like  a  bed  of  bright-hued  orchids,  the 
tiny  bodies  lay  heaped  on  the  floor  of  the  cave. 


LEY  FUGA  157 

But-  the  Padre,  after  he  had  satisfied  himself 
that  no  other  wild  beasts  had  slipped  through 
our  wicket,  went  forth  in  search  of  Ramon. 

The  hours  dragged  heavily.  Among  his 
little  dead  comrades  Felix  found  one,  a  mock- 
ing bird,  which  responded  to  the  warmth  of  the 
fire.  But  it  did  not  take  flight  with  the  other 
birds  we  had  revived,  seeming  content  to  rest 
in  Felix's  hollowed  hands. 

I  examined  it  carefully  and  found  the  cause 
of  its  inaction  in  a  limp  and  broken  wing. 

"See,  Felix,"  I  said,  "our  little  friend  is 
hurt,  but  if  you  will  help  me,  I  think  we  can 
bind  up  the  break.  And,  meantime,  until  it 
is  healed,  we  will  get  Ramon  to  make  you  a 
cage  for  the  caritito.86  Then,  some  day,  we 
will  set  him  free,  and  hear  his  most  beautiful 
song  of  thanks." 

In  truth,  I  was  glad  to  prattle  with  the  boy, 
and  to  keep  his  mind  and  my  own  occupied 
with  cheerful  thoughts.  Together  we  fitted  a 
splint  in  place,  and  bound  the  wing  firmly  to 
the  poor  bird's  body. 


158  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

While  we  were  thus  occupied,  the  Padre 
returned,  bringing  with  him  Ramon.  But 
such  a  Ramon,  hollow-eyed,  ragged,  and 
stained  with  blood! 

I  sprang  from  my  seat  and  forced  him  gently 
into  it.  Rabbit  broth  I  had  ready  heating  on 
the  fire,  and  water  fresh  drawn  from  the 
spring.  The  Padre  helped  me  to  make  him 
comfortable,  and  soon  he  fell  asleep,  so 
exhausted  was  he,  in  his  chair. 

I  drew  up  my  stool  beside  him,  and  took  one 
hand  in  mine.  So,  mutely,  I  could  express  the 
gratitude  of  my  heart  at  his  return.  Perhaps 
he  would  feel  it,  even  through  his  dreams. 

"Tell  me,  Padre,  is  he  much  ill,  think  you?" 
I  whispered. 

"No,  little  daughter ;  I  think  not,  though  he 
is  too  exhausted  to  be  questioned  much.  I 
found  him,  as  I  seemed  to  see  him  through  the 
storm,  lying  in  the  shelter  of  a  cave  in  the 
Barranca  Azul.87  At  first,  I  thought  he  was 
dead.  But  the  aguardiente  I  carried  with  me 
revived  him.  Thank  God,  the  blood  you  see 


LEY  FUGA  159 

on  his  clothes  is  not  his !  When  he  has  rested, 
he  will  tell  us  all  his  adventures.  Meantime, 
he  must  sleep."  So  saying,  the  Padre  picked 
Ramon  up  in  his  strong  arms  as  easily  as  if  he 
had  been  Felix,  and  laid  him  on  his  bed. 

That  evening,  the  birds,  which  tender- 
hearted Felix  himself  pressed  upon  me  for  his 
dear  Ramon,  made  a  most  delicious  stew.  By 
the  flare  of  the  fire,  reflected  in  a  thousand 
facets,  we  sat  down  to  table,  a  reunited  family. 
The  Padre's  customary  blessing  took  on  a  new 
significance  as  we  thought  of  the  dangers 
through  which  we  had  all  so  lately  passed. 
Death  had  been  all  around  us,  nay,  had  come 
to  our  very  door,  yet  we  had  been  graciously 
spared. 

As  we  ate,  Ramon  recounted  his  hardships 
in  wandering  through  the  storm.  The  mist 
had  come  on  him  so  suddenly  that  he  had  no 
time  to  escape,  and  traveled  perforce  with 
great  caution.  But  he  wisely  headed  down- 
ward, instead  of  trying  to  return  to  us.  Even 
a  league  or  two  would  thus  bring  him  below 


160  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

the  snow  line,  were  he  fortunate  enough  to  find 
the  Barranca  Azul.  This  gorge,  opening  from 
our  range,  dipped  swiftly,  thousands  of  feet, 
to  the  temperature  of  the  tierra  caliente  in  the 
fertile  valleys  below.  In  the  storm,  he  missed 
his  way,  drew  back  from  a  precipice  barely  in 
time  and  found  himself  in  a  cave, — the  same 
near  which  the  Padre  later  found  him. 

"El  tigre  was  also  there,"  Ramon  continued, 
"his  eyes  burning  in  the  darkness.  You  may 
well  believe  that  I  was  frightened  at  seeing 
him.  But  he  made  no  move  to  attack  me. 
All  the  wild  creatures  were  cowed  by  the  great 
storm,  and  in  this  same  cave  were  already 
huddled  two  deer. 

"By  this  time,  I  was  exhausted.  The  storm 
had  increased  in  fury,  and  I  realized  that  I 
stood  in  danger  of  freezing,  in  my  thin  clothes. 
The  presence  of  the  deer  reassured  me.  I 
crept  up  close  to  my  strange  companions,  and 
I  make  no  doubt  they  were  in  the  end  the 
means  of  preserving  my  life  with  their 
warmth." 


LEY  FUGA  161 

In  the  excitement  of  the  story,  we  had  all 
forgotten  Felix.  Happening  to  glance  at  him, 
Ramon  saw  that  he  was  quivering  with  fright. 

"Ay  de  mi,"  he  cried,  "what  have  we  here? 
This  small  man  should  have  been  asleep,  he!" 

"He — he  used  to  frighten  me  with  tigers — 
in  the  prison — at  night — "  The  child  shud- 
dered uncontrollably,  his  eyes  turned  inward 
on  sights  that  were  not  good  to  see. 

Ramon,  conscience-stricken  at  his  careless- 
ness, brought  him  to  the  fire. 

"Pobrecito,  I  should  have  remembered  that 
a  tiger  is  large,  and  a  man-child,  even  so  brave 
a  one  as  our  Felix,  very  small.  And  now, 
being  small,  I  will  sing  to  you.  It  is  a  song 
my  mother  must  have  sung  to  me,  I  think, 
when  I  was  small  like  you.  She  held  me  so, 
and  rocked  me  so,  and  sang:" 

Sleep,  sleep,  sleep, 

Eyes  like  fluttering  wings. 

(Hushaby,  little  son.) 

See,  the  mother  bird  brings 

Food  for  the  little  one. 


l62 


THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 


Sleep,  sleep,  sleep, 
Eyes  like  breasts  of  twin  doves. 
(Hushaby,  softly  swung, 
You,  whom  your  mother  loves 
More  than  the  doves  their  young.) 

Sleep,  sleep,  sleep. 
Homing  your  birds  will  nest 
(Hushaby,  never  fear) 
Each  in  the  hollowed  rest 
Of  your  eyes,  little  dear. 


CHAPTER  XII 

FOLLOWING  the  untimely  blizzard, 
spring  came  again,  the  fruit  trees  burst 
once  more  into  flower,  the  clavillinas  tasseled, 
and  other  birds  took  the  places  of  those  which 
had  been  destroyed  by  the  storm.  Mists  and 
rains  became  frequent,  and  not  only  the  valley, 
but  all  the  range  about  and  below  us,  was  green 
with  herbage  and  bright  with  glowing  flowers. 
There  bloomed  mariposa  lilies,  delicate  as  the 
butterflies  that  sought  their  fragrance,  colum- 
bines, red  and  purple,  spired  like  the  cathedral 
towers  of  Lerma,  blue  bells,  which  the  fairies 
love,  and  many  more.  All  the  air  was 
fragrant  and  sweet  with  song. 

In  La  Paz  also  these  flowers  grew,  mingled 
with  others  which  loved  more  the  heat  of  the 
sun.  These  flowers,  planted  so  beautifully  by 
nature,  we  did  not  disturb.  But  a  portion  of 
the  greensward  we  plowed  up  for  a  garden, 

163 


164  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

and  planted  with  kernels  of  maize,  beans,  and 
tomato  seeds  which  we  had  saved  for  the  pur- 
pose. About  the  garden  Ramon  built  a  trim 
fence  of  bamboo,  to  keep  out  the  little  four- 
footed  gardeners,  with  whom  we  did  not  wish 
to  share  our  precious  greens.  In  addition 
to  these  improvements,  he  made  a  rustic 
mirador88  on  the  outer  ledge  of  the  valley, 
overlooking  the  wonderful  panorama  below, 
and  catching  every  breeze.  Here  he  hung  the 
windharp,  to  play  to  us,  day  and  night,  and 
here,  when  the  weather  was  clear,  we  loved  to 
sit.  Yet  our  cave,  warm  in  winter,  was  cool 
in  summer,  reaching  as  it  did  into  the  solid 
rock,  and  shaded  once  more  by  the  leaves  of 
the  Virgin's  Mantle  against  the  afternoon  sun. 
Ramon  fitted  the  arbor  in  front  of  the  door 
with  seats,  and,  high  up  on  the  side,  embowered 
in  vines,  he  built  an  airy  cage  for  Pico  de  Oro,89 
the  mocking  bird.  Such  then,  amid  simple 
joy  and  loveliness,  was  our  home,  La  Paz. 

By  now  Pico  de  Oro's  wing  was  entirely 
healed,  and  he  could  have  flown  away  to  join 


LEY  FUGA  165 

his  brethren  in  their  glad  migration  to  the 
north.  But  perhaps  he  had  been  left  so  hope- 
lessly behind  that  he  had  no  heart  to  follow 
them.  At  any  rate,  he  had  become  so  tame 
that  when  Felix  opened  his  cage  door,  expect- 
ing him  to  take  flight,  he  fluttered  only  as  far 
as  the  child's  shoulder,  and  lighted  there. 
Nor  did  he  care  for  any  other  home  except 
his  cage.  By  day  he  roamed  and  sang  at  will, 
but  night  found  him,  head  tucked  in  wing,  on 
his  chosen  perch.  Who  can  say  that  he  did 
not  realize  our  care  for  him,  and  feel  his  safety 
from  squirrels  and  other  enemies  when  the 
cage  door  was  shut  ? 

We,  too,  like  Pico  de  Oro,  feeling  our 
security,  began  to  venture  more  often  from 
La  Paz,  our  cage.  With  luncheon  in  a  basket, 
fishing  rod,  bows  and  arrows,  we  went  down 
into  the  forests.  There,  reclining  on  pine 
needles  beside  some  rock-fretted  stream,  we 
talked  or  listened  to  the  Padre's  wisdom,  or 
dreamed  the  hours  away.  But  the  long  after- 
noon light  brought  us  homeward,  to  find  our 


166  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

valley  undisturbed,  and  filled  with  the  cool 
shimmer  of  the  aspens,  which  looked  and 
sounded  so  like  the  ripple  of  our  beloved  lake. 

To  me,  content  in  the  society  of  those  I 
loved,  watched  over  with  increasing  tender- 
ness by  my  brother,  and  watching  in  turn  the 
unfolding  of  Felix's  sweet  nature,  day  by  day, 
our  existence  left  nothing  to  be  desired.  Even 
the  Padre's  teachings,  which  set  windows,  as 
it  were,  in  our  minds,  through  which  we  looked 
afar  over  the  world,  left  in  me  only  the  sensa- 
tions of  aloofness  I  found  in  looking  from  our 
mirador.  There  was  the  world,  indeed,  full 
of  deep  barrancas,  of  wild  beasts,  of  wilder, 
wicked  men,  but  here,  serene,  seeing  only  its 
beauty,  were  we.  Political  factions,  the  rise 
or  fall  of  my  country,  the  fate  of  Don  Luis 
even,  what  had  I  to  do  with  these?  Had  not 
God  in  his  wisdom  hidden  me  close  to  Him- 
self above  them,  and  made  it  a  duty  that  here 
I  should  remain? 

Besides,  I  had  much  to  occupy  me,  not  only 
in  the  housework,  but  in  the  drying  of  fruits 


LEY  FUGA  167 

once  more  and  garden  produce  for  the  winter. 
Our  cotton  clothing  was  also  wearing  out,  and 
I  conceived  the  idea  of  weaving  cloth  with 
which  to  replace  it.  The  Padre,  who  knew 
the  crafts  of  the  mountain  Indians  thoroughly, 
from  his  many  journeys  among  them,  helped 
me  in  this  by  preparing  fibers  of  the  primavera 
and  of  the  bark  streamers  of  the  cottonwood 
for  spinning.  They  were  easily  twisted  with 
a  whorl.  Ramon  made  me  a  frame  for  the 
weaving,  strung  with  the  fibers,  and  fastened 
to  a  post  of  the  mirador.  A  bamboo  needle 
served  as  a  shuttle,  and  my  fingers  as  a  comb. 
The  finished  cloth  was  coarse  and  stiff  but 
wearable.  For  Felix's  soft  body,  however, 
I  cut  up  my  full  skirts. 

Ramon,  though  he  busied  himself  with  the 
garden,  with  carving,  and  with  the  delicate 
making  of  a  violin,  had  a  more  active  mind 
than  I.  I  could  see  that  he  grew  restless,  and 
the  Padre's  face  also  became  more  thoughtful 
with  the  approach  of  autumn.  They  talked 
much  together  pacing  back  and  forth  under 


168          THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

the  trees  or  along  the  level  edge  of  the  cliffs. 
As  I  watched  them,  looking  up  from  my  weav- 
ing, I  became  aware  suddenly  that  the  top  of 
Ramon's  head  was  on  a  level  with  the  Padre's 
ear.  How  tall  he  had  grown  without  my 
noticing  it!  My  heart  contracted.  A  year 
had  transformed  him;  the  sinewy  figure, 
aquiline  face,  and  straight  carried  head  were 
no  longer  those  of  a  boy,  but  of  a  man.  The 
world  upon  which  I  looked  out  blurred  before 
my  eyes.  It  lay,  not  far  away,  indeed,  but 
there  where  Ramon  stood,  almost  within  touch. 
No  wonder  he  was  eager  to  push  aside  our 
wicket  gate  and  take  his  place  in  it ! 

With  the  approach  of  harvest,  Pico  de  Oro 
too  seemed  to  share  our  unrest  and  fared  on 
longer  flights  beyond  La  Paz.  Felix  voiced 
the  opinion  that  he  was  looking  for  his  little 
brothers,  who  would  be  coming  southward 
soon.  Be  that  as  it  may,  one  evening  he  did 
not  return.  Felix  was  sick  with  grief.  That 
night  I  took  him  into  my  own  bed  to  comfort 
him.  But  I  slept  too  deeply,  without  ears. 


LEY  FUGA  169 

In  the  morning  I  woke  to  find  my  darling  gone. 
A  hurried  search  showed  that  he  was  not  in 
the  valley,  and  that  the  wicket  was  unhasped. 

All  day  the  Padre,  Ramon  and  I  searched, 
each  in  a  different  direction.  But  the  little 
feet,  shod  in  deerskin  sandals,  left  no  trace, 
nor  was  there  any  undergrowth  in  the  forests 
on  which  shreds  of  his  clothing  might  catch. 
Occasionally  through  the  day,  I  heard  the  faint 
notes  of  Ramon's  flute,  with  which  he  was  in 
the  habit  of  calling  Felix,  or  the  shouts  of  the 
Padre.  But  I  listened  in  vain  for  any  answer, 
and  continued  on  my  way.  Well  on  into  the 
evening,  bright  with  moonlight,  I  sought  him. 
At  length  hunger  and  fatigue  turned  my  steps 
homeward.  As  I  came  out  from  the  forest, 
my  heart  leaped  within  me.  From  the  top  of 
the  mountain  a  pillar  of  smoke,  shot  with  fire, 
streamed  heavenward.  It  was  the  signal  we 
had  agreed  on  in  case  Felix  was  found. 

I  flew  up  the  ridge  to  the  gate.  At  another 
time,  I  might  have  paused  to  wonder  why  it 
was  open.  Now,  I  ran  through  unheeding,  to 


170  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

come  to  a  full  stop  before  a  sight  which  froze 
my  blood. 

Were  they  men  or  devils,  these  painted, 
feathered,  half-naked  creatures  who  trampled 
our  valley  in  a  drunken,  reeling  dance,  by  the 
light  of  our  burning  home  ?  And  who  was  the 
pivot  of  the  wild  orgy,  standing  garlanded 
with  flowers  in  the  center?  Could  it  be? — it 
was, — Felix!  His  agonized  eyes  caught  mine 
on  the  instant.  "  'Firia,"  he  cried  and  started 
to  run  to  me.  A  blue-banded  demon  tripped 
and  held  him.  Others  swarmed  forward 
angrily.  But  Ramon,  unknown  to  me,  had 
entered  the  valley  also.  With  a  quick  thrust, 
he  placed  me  behind  him. 

"Stand  back,"  he  shouted,  aiming  his  pistol 
at  the  leader.  They  cowered.  "Bring  me 
the  child, — the  child,"  he  repeated  pointing. 

Either  they  could  not  or  they  would  not 
understand.  Like  bees,  they  clustered  about 
Felix,  gesticulating  and  talking  wildly  in  a 
language  we  did  not  know.  Undoubtedly 
something  terrible  would  have  happened  had 


LEY  FUGA  171 

not  the  Padre  come  just  then,  attracted  by  the 
same  signal  we  had  seen  so  joyfully.  At  sight 
of  him,  the  demons  became  perfectly  silent 
and  rigid.  Suddenly,  by  one  impulse,  they 
groveled  on  the  ground.  The  Padre,  taking- 
no  notice  of  them  except  to  spurn  them  aside 
with  his  feet,  picked  up  the  child  and  placed 
him  in  my  lap. 

With  folded  arms  he  turned  then  and 
regarded  the  prostrate  figures.  Presently  he 
spoke,  in  a  voice  of  command.  They  re- 
sponded by  laying  at  his  feet  the  strange  herbs 
by  eating  which  they  had  transformed  them- 
selves from  men — for  men  they  had  been — 
into  beasts. 

The  Padre  spoke  again;  they  attempted, 
futilely,  to  put  out  the  fire  which  was  gutting 
our  little  home.  But  they  were  too  exhausted 
with  drugs  and  fasting;  and  the  Padre,  hud- 
dling them  into  the  ruined  garden,  addressed 
himself  to  the  task.  Ramon  and  he  worked 
manfully,  but  even  before  they  began  to  throw 
on  water  the  flames  had  licked  the  interior 


172  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

nearly  bare.  Our  cave  yawned  a  black  and 
smoking  pit,  our  valley  was  devastated,  and  we 
were  once  more  homeless.  From  the  debris,  we 
picked  up  enough  scorched  beans  to  satisfy 
the  sharpest  pangs  of  hunger,  and  left  La  Paz, 
never  to  return. 

However,  we  did  not  go  far.  On  the  bank 
of  a  stream  in  a  gorge  we  knew  well,  we  halted. 
There  the  Padre,  after  satisfying  himself  that 
Felix  was  unhurt,  though  terribly  frightened, 
went  back  to  keep  watch  on  the  wretched 
Indians  above.  These  Indians,  he  explained 
briefly,  belonged  to  a  tribe  among  whom  he 
had  worked  as  a  missionary.  Their  home  was 
in  mountain  fastnesses  many  leagues  to  the 
south,  but  every  year  at  the  harvest  time,  it 
had  been  their  custom  to  pick  by  lot  certain  of 
their  men  to  make  a  pilgrimage  to  our  moun- 
tain top.  There,  in  our  cave,  they  believed, 
lived  the  "Heart  of  the  Mountains,"  to  whom 
they  offered  thanks  for  the  harvest,  and  prayed 
for  rain.  Sometimes,  it  was  darkly  whispered, 
this  offering  used  to  take  the  form  of  human 


LEY  FUGA  173 

sacrifice.  But  Padre  Francisco,  during  his 
ministry,  had  persuaded  them  of  the  folly  and 
sin  of  all  this  observance,  going  with  them 
himself  one  year  to  the  cave  to  celebrate  the 
sacrament  there,  and  thus  to  purify  it  to  the 
service  of  God.  From  that  time  until  the 
present,  the  Padre  believed,  the  cave  had  not 
been  visited.  Still,  he  was  well  aware  that 
superstitions  are  long  lived,  and  had  counted 
on  this  very  fact  and  on  the  fear  of  the  Moun- 
tain God  for  leagues  around  to  protect  us  in 
our  retreat. 

After  the  Padre  had  left  us,  I  picked  the 
last  withered  flowers  from  Felix's  tufted  hair, 
shuddering  to  see  them,  and  to  think  of  the 
horrible  fate  from  which  we  had  barely  saved 
him  at  the  hands  of  those  ignorant,  frenzied 
men. 

"I  was  hunting  Pico  de  Oro,"  Felix  said,  in 
reply  to  our  questions.  "It  did  not  seem  far. 
And  I  kept  playing  on  the  shepherd's  pipe 
Ramon  made  me.  Pico  de  Oro  always 
answered  that.  But  I  could  not  find  him,  and 


174  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

I  didn't  know  the  way  back.  So,  I  went  to 
sleep.  When  I  woke  up,  those — those 
creatures  were  all  around  me." 

"Did  they  hurt  you,  darling?"  I  asked, 
unable  to  forget  the  heavy  fall  one  of  the 
painted  devils  had  given  him. 

"I  don't  think  so."  He  felt  himself  all  over 
gravely  to  make  sure.  "They  were  laughing 
then,  and  heaped  me  with  flowers,  and  made 
me  play  for  them  on  my  pipes.  But  I  was 
frightened.  When  they  carried  me  home, 
even,  I  was  frightened.  And  you  were  not 
there." 

"No,  but  we  came,  thank  God — " 

Ramon,  who  had  been  stirring  about,  bring- 
ing armfuls  of  soft  needles  for  our  beds,  inter- 
rupted. "Come,  Felix,  see  the  nice  place 
where  you  and  Porfiria  are  to  sleep." 

In  truth  it  was  sweet  and  soft,  with  pine 
branches  above  and  pine  needles  below. 

"But  you,"  I  said,  "where  will  you  sleep?" 

"I  shall  not  sleep  to-night." 

No    coaxing    could    persuade    him.     Tired 


LEY  FUGA  175 

out,  Felix  and  I  dropped  to  sleep,  safe  in  the 
care  of  Ramon. 

Quite  late  the  next  morning  the  Padre  came, 
and  brought  with  him  the  chief  of  the  Indian 
village,  who  had  been  among  the  revelers  of 
the  previous  night.  A  very  different  man  he 
looked,  with  the  paint  washed  off,  his  gray  hair 
combed,  and  a  much  ashamed  expression  on 
his  broad  face. 

"Ramon  and  Porfiria,"  the  Padre  said,  "this 
man  is  Tezpi,  chief  of  the  Tecos  tribe,  a  tribe 
of  your  own  Tarascan  blood.  In  other  days 
he  was  my  very  good  friend.  He  says  he 
wishes  to  be  so  now." 

"At  your  feet,  Senor,  Senorita,"  said  the 
Indian,  sweeping  off  his  hat  with  a  gesture  of 
native  grace. 

"We  are  your  servants,"  Ramon  and  I 
responded  in  the  greeting  of  our  country. 
But  Felix  regarded  him  without  a  sign. 

"Tezpi  has  a  remarkable  proposal  to  make 
us,"  the  Padre  continued.  "I  will  give  it  to 
you  because  his  Spanish  has  become  rusty  with 


176  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

disuse.  He  asks  us  all  to  accompany  him 
to  his  village,  and  to  live  there  with  him." 

Tezpi  interrupted  with  deprecatory  hands, 
and  a  torrent  of  earnest  words. 

"He  says  he  is  unworthy,  a  pig  of  a  man,  and 
that  all  his  tribe  are  pigs,"  the  Father  trans- 
lated literally.  "But  I  think  they  are  truly 
sorry  for  their  heathen  backsliding." 

Tears  came  to  the  old  Indian's  eyes.  Slowly 
he  articulated  his  supplication :  "Come,  teach 
us,  make  us  good." 


PART  III 
A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT 


CHAPTER  XIII 

"'VT'E  shall  have  a  song,  as  in  the  night  .  .  . 

•*•  and  gladness  of  heart  as  when  one 
goeth  .  .  .  into  the  mountains  of  the  Lord." 

Such  was  the  text  from  which  Padre  Fran- 
cisco preached  his  sermon  the  first  Sunday 
after  our  arrival  in  the  hamlet  of  Huitzitzi- 
lin.90  To  me,  kneeling  with  Ramon  and  Felix 
among  the  ragged  Indians  on  the  flags  of  the 
dilapidated  church,  it  seemed  incredible  that 
he  could  feel  the  hope  that  the  verse  expressed. 
As  his  voice  flowed  melodiously  along  in  the 
native  speech,  almost  unintelligible  to  us,  my 
mind  occupied  itself  with  pictures  of  the 
journey  with  Tezpi  and  his  followers  thirty 
leagues  through  the  mountains  from  La  Paz. 
Our  way  had  led  through  forests  more  luxu- 
riantly beautiful  than  those  we  had  traversed 

before,  with  every  leaf  and  flower  renewed  by 

179 


i8o  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

reason  of  the  summer  rains.  Never  had  I 
imagined  a  world  so  wholly  lovely.  Yet  all 
the  beauty  about  us  seemed  marred  by  our 
companions,  dirty,  hopeless-eyed,  bearing  the 
stamp  of  moral  and  physical  starvation.  And 
at  the  end  of  the  journey,  to  what  hovels  had 
we  come,  ruinous,  vermin-infested,  squalid! 
Even  in  the  church,  I  could  hear  the  unseemly 
noise  of  fighting  dogs  and  squealing  pigs. 

Nevertheless,  the  kindness  of  heart  of  our 
guide  and  of  his  people,  who  had  come  forth  to 
welcome  us  as  if  we  were  of  a  superior  race, 
and  strewn  our  way  with  flowers,  could  not 
fail  to  touch  my  heart.  They  seemed  espe- 
cially attracted  to  Felix,  as  if  trying  to  make 
up  to  him  for  the  inhuman  fright  they  had 
caused  him,  and  this  thoughtfulness  naturally 
won  me  as  nothing  else  could  have  done.  As 
I  looked  about  the  dim  church,  and  saw  one 
face  after  another  light  up  with  the  Padre's 
words,  hope  began  to  enter  my  soul  also. 
Were  they  not  my  kindred,  members  even,  as 
the  Padre  had  told  me,  of  my  own  heroic, 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT          181 

scattered  tribe  ?  What  unmerited  misfortune, 
I  wondered,  had  reduced  them  to  their  present 
misery? 

The  location  of  Huitzitzilin  was  ideal,  on 
the  edge  of  a  forest  glade  of  rich  pasturage, 
and  shaded  by  palms,  papayas,9*  and  other 
tropical  trees.  The  gentle  slope  in  front  of 
the  village  was  dotted  with  wild  apricots, 
oranges,  peaches  and  cherries,  self-sown  in 
lovely  orchards,  and  was  bounded  by  a  wind- 
ing stream.  At  some  distance  above  the 
village,  bold  crags  jutted  from  among  the 
trees,  through  which  the  stream,  so  peaceful 
in  the  meadow,  fell  in  loud  cascades.  Houses 
and  fences  were  hung  with  scarlet  trumpet 
vines  and  yellow  honeysuckle;  as  if  nature 
tried  to  blot  out  in  fragrance  and  color  man's 
squalor  and  ugliness. 

The  Padre's  first  care,  naturally,  was  that  we 
ourselves  should  be  decently  housed.  Under 
his  and  Ramon's  directions  a  cottage  was 
soon  built  for  us,  more  substantial  than  those 
of  the  Village  of  the  Shield,  and  with  more 


182  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

rooms  than  most  of  those  contained.  Set 
somewhat  apart  from  the  hamlet,  and  on 
higher  ground,  it  was  fresh  and  clean.  A 
fence  of  braided  straw,  quickly  covered  with 
vines,  inclosed  enough  ground  for  a  garden. 

But  our  garden  bore  strange  fruit  that  year. 
The  maize,  which  is  the  staple  crop  of  all  our 
country,  had  not  been  raised  in  the  village 
fields  for  two  years.  After  succeeding 
seasons  of  dry  rot  and  drouth,  had  come  the 
war.  There  was  no  longer  left  in  the  region  a 
kernel  of  seed  corn  to  plant.  At  least,  there 
had  not  been  until  Tezpi's  desperate  expedition 
to  La  Paz  had  yielded  him  our  little  crop.  For 
all  their  drunken  thanksgiving  to  the  Mountain 
God,  the  Indians  had  guarded  the  bulk  of  this 
treasure  well,  and  brought  home  the  yellow 
ears,  worth  more  to  them  than  gold.  The 
Padre,  in  his  unsown  garden,  prepared  in  his 
own  way  for  the  planting  of  this  corn. 

Hither,  through  the  winter,  came,  not  only 
the  children,  but  the  grown  fathers  and 
mothers  of  the  village,  to  the  open-air  classes 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT          183 

he  taught.  Cleanliness  and  patriotism  were 
the  first  lessons  the  children  learned  there. 
Their  elders  learned  also  the  simple  laws  of 
health,  and  a  Christianity  that  laid  stress  on 
deeds,  rather  than  on  catechisms. 

It  did  not  take  three  months  for  a  great 
change  to  be  effected  in  the  village.  One  day 
in  the  spring,  after  the  fields  had  been  plowed 
and  the  precious  corn  planted  in  the  earth, 
Tezpi  lingered  to  talk  with  the  Padre. 

"Little  Father,"  he  said,  "we,  your  children, 
have  had  it  in  our  thoughts  these  two  moons  to 
repair  the  church."  His  eyes  traveled  from 
the  Padre  to  the  furrowed  fields.  "God,  who 
rewarded  our  evil  with  blessing  on  the  moun- 
tain yonder, — we  wish  to  honor  Him." 

"Bien,  muy  Uen," 92  cried  Padre  Francisco. 
"It  is  what  I  have  been  waiting  for  you  to  do. 
For,  look  you,  Tezpi,  the  church  is  your  church, 
not  my  church.  It  will  be  what  you  your- 
selves make  it,  in  spirit  as  in  form." 

Tezpi  went  away,  evidently  pondering  much. 
I,  too,  pondered  and  began  to  understand  the 


184  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

Padre's  method.  He  created  the  desire  for 
good  and  inevitably  the  desire  fulfilled  itself. 
As  I  looked  back,  I  saw  that  he  had  done  this 
always,  with  us,  as  with  these  latest  children 
of  his  love.  From  church  to  school  house, 
from  cleanliness  to  the  building  of  an  acequia 93 
which  carried  water  from  the  falls  past  the 
door  of  every  house,  the  progress  of  the  com- 
munity was  steady.  Yet  the  Padre's  hand  in 
it  was  not  apparent;  he  merely  taught  the 
school  day  by  day. 

There  were  many  maidens  in  the  village,  of 
my  age,  and  youths  who  began  to  look  to 
Ramon  for  leadership.  Most  of  the  men  and 
boys  played  the  guitar,  the  violin  or  the  flute, 
for  the  love  of  music  is  universal  among  us. 
These  Ramon  gathered  together  for  regular 
practice,  until  he  had  formed  a  band.  Soon, 
on  moonlight  nights  in  the  little  square  facing 
the  church,  long  files  of  youths  and  maidens 
walked  decorously  round  and  round  to  the 
tune  of  the  lilting  melodies,  while  their  elders 
sat  on  benches  beneath  the  lime  trees  watching, 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT          185 

listening,  and  enjoying  their  evening  smoke. 
On  these  occasions,  I  walked  with  Felix,  and 
what  with  sharing  his  childish  delight,  and 
glancing  now  and  then  at  Ramon,  who  seemed 
to  me  to  be  unlocking  music  from  my  very  soul, 
I  thought  myself  in  heaven. 

Nahua,  Tezpi's  oldest  daughter,  was  of 
about  my  age.  A  comely,  neat-looking  girl, 
she  was  most  in  my  company  of  all  the  village 
maids.  One  day,  she  and  Felix  and  I  walked 
in  the  meadows,  and  Felix  made  a  chaplet  of 
flowers  for  each  of  us  to  wear.  Coming  home 
we  passed  the  little  reservoir  which  now 
formed  the  center  of  the  village  square. 

Nahua  stopped  and  called  me  over  to  the 
edge.  "Look,"  she  said,  "see  what  a  pretty 
picture  we  make !" 

Quite  startled  by  a  thought  which  had  never 
occurred  to  me  before,  I  peered  into  the  water. 
Two  faces  wreathed  in  flowers  confronted  me, 
hers  lighter  than  mine,  her  eyes  like  blue  con- 
volvuli,  her  hair  reddened  beneath  its  black 
gloss  by  the  sun.  My  brownness,  so  like  that 


i86  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

of  all  my  people,  was  commonplace  beside  her 
unusual  beauty.  As  if  I  had  never  seen  her 
before,  as  in  truth  I  had  not,  I  remained  star- 
ing at  the  contrast.  Suddenly  another  face 
appeared  above  ours,  that  of  Ramon.  He 
dropped  his  arm  lightly  on  my  shoulder  and 
drew  me  away. 

The  spell  was  broken.  I  said  goodnight  to 
Nahua  and  went  home  with  him.  But  the 
thought  of  beauty  in  any  relation  to  me  was 
new  and  troubling.  She  was  lovely,  lovely  as 
the  orchids  that  grew  in  the  forest.  And 
Ramon's  eyes  had  seemed  to  me  to  linger  on 
her  at  the  pool. 

"Ramon,"  I  asked,  "where,  think  you,  does 
Nahua  get  her  fair  beauty?  It  is  not  Indian, 
it  is  not  Spanish,  it  is,"  my  mind  sought  for  a 
comparison,  "like  the  whiteness  of  the  ftori- 
pundio."  94 

"Tezpi  told  me  the  other  day, — "  ah,  he  had 
noticed,  then — "that  it  was  from  her  mother, 
who  belonged  to  a  hill  tribe  of  fair  men  and 
women  like  that.  They  have  a  legend  among 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT          187 

them  that  this  race  came  in  ships  from  an 
island  empire  overseas  which  was  destroyed, 
many  ages  ago,  by  a  great  flood." 

"But  that  is  not  like  our  legends,  nor  like 
the  Bible,"  I  objected. 

"I  know  not,"  he  said  quietly.  "To  me  all 
legends  have  a  similarity.  The  Tarascan  ark, 
in  which  all  kinds  of  animals  were  saved,  and 
the  humming-bird  (for  which  this  village  is 
named)  which  flew  forth  over  the  face  of  the 
waters,  are  they  not  like  the  story  of  Noah 
which  the  Padre  tells  us  ?  The  ocean,  he  him- 
self says,  covered  more  of  the  earth's  surface 
in  ages  gone  than  it  does  now,  and  all  of  our 
legends,  that  of  the  ark,  and  of  Quetzalcoatl, 
the  great  and  good  god  of  the  Aztecs,95  and 
this  of  Nahua's  people,  point  to  a  coming  of 
our  races  from  other  lands  across  the  water, 
— who  knows  whence,  or  when?" 

I  relapsed  into  silence,  feeling  as  if  a  mist, 
like  that  which  used  to  fall  suddenly  on  our 
mountain  top,  had  enveloped  me,  and  I  were 
lost  in  the  dimness  of  antiquity.  Out  of  it 


188  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

shone  the  face  of  Quetzalcoatl,  the  beneficent, 
who  had  taught  the  ancient  Aztecs  long  ago, 
even  as  the  Padre  was  teaching  this  poor  rem- 
nant of  a  tribe  to-day,  the  ways  of  righteous- 
ness. The  ark  of  the  Tarascans  once  more 
rode  the  waste  of  waters,  and  far  in  the  dis- 
tance I  descried  the  shadowy  shores  of  that 
mysterious  island  from  which  they,  and  we, 
had  come.  Good  indeed,  and  human  was  the 
touch  of  Felix's  warm  fingers,  which  roused 
me  from  my  reverie. 

But  the  thought  of  our  relations  to  an  even 
greater  world  than  the  Padre  had  been  able 
to  make  me  see — a  world  in  which  we  of 
Indian  blood  seemed  cut  off  mysteriously  from 
him,  as  from  all  the  civilized  races  of  the 
present,  haunted  my  mind.  I  recalled  the 
stories  he  had  told  me  of  noble  ruins  of  temples 
and  cities  which  dot  our  land,  made  by 
unknown  hands  and  crumbled  by  time  before 
the  advent  of  the  Spaniards  four  hundred 
years  ago.  To  that  unrecorded  age  belonged 
our  fables,  and  from  the  mighty  race  which 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT          189 

had  built  those  massive  monuments  we,  the 
despoiled  Indians,  were  descended.  It  gave 
new  significance  to  the  bursting  pride  I  had 
always  felt  when  my  grandfather  held  Ramon 
and  me  spellbound  by  the  hero-tales  of  our  own 
tribe,  and  their  deeds  of  valor  in  the  cause  of 
liberty.  We  Tarascos  were  the  last  of  all  the 
Indian  nations  to  submit  to  the  Spanish  yoke; 
scattered  into  the  mountains  and  on  the  lake 
shore,  some  of  us  had  never  submitted.  Oh, 
that  we  had  the  strength  to  enlarge  our  free- 
dom until  it  should  embrace  all  the  oppressed 
of  our  race ! 

This  line  of  reasoning  brought  me  by  a  cir- 
cuitous route  to  the  question  which  I  knew  was 
uppermost  in  the  mind  of  Ramon :  What  had 
been  the  course  of  the  Revolution  from  which 
we  had  fled,  and  what  the  fate  of  our  friends 
in  it?  Though  he  and  the  Padre  had  ques- 
tioned Tezpi  and  his  people  closely,  they  had 
been  able  to  learn  nothing  from  them.  Nor 
did  they  dare,  in  the  precarious  condition  of 
our  fortunes,  attempt  to  find  out  in  any  of  the 


190 


THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 


small  hamlets  we  skirted  on  our  journey.  The 
mountain  tribes,  shy  even  in  so-called  times  of 
peace, — for  when  were  the  Indios  ever  left  in 
peace? — were  now  doubly  suspicious  of 
strangers.  The  fear  of  bandits  and  spies  and 
pressgangs  kept  them  well  away  from  contact 
with  any  whom  they  did  not  know. 

At  last,  however,  a  rumor  in  some  under- 
ground way  reached  the  village,  and  Tezpi 
came  over  one  evening  to  acquaint  the  Padre 
with  it. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

FROM  the  kitchen,  where  I  was  grinding 
the  new  and  precious  cornmeal  for  the 
morning  tortillas,  I  could  distinguish  only  the 
salutations  that  passed  between  the  Padre, 
Ramon  and  Tezpi  as  he  came  in  at  the  gate. 
The  harsher  voice  of  Tezpi  continued,  broken 
by  the  slow-spoken  words  of  the  Padre,  and 
the  eager  interrogations  of  Ramon.  Then  fell 
a  long  interval  of  silence,  and  there  was 
wafted  to  me  the  fragrance  of  tobacco.  Evi- 
dently Tezpi's  communication  was  important, 
and  required  thought. 

Into  this  silence  fell  suddenly  Felix's  child- 
ish treble.  "Ramon,  I  am  so  sleepy ;  have  you 
forgotten  to  put  me  to  bed?" 

I  rose  to  get  the  boy,  but  had  not  reached  the 
door  of  the  kitchen  when  I  was  arrested  by  the 
minor  chords  of  the  lullaby  which  Ramon  so 
often  sang  to  him. 

191 


192  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

"Sleep,  sleep,  sleep,"  sang  the  voice,  but  it 
was  the  cracked  voice  of  Tezpi,  and  not  that  of 
Ramon, 

An  exclamation  interrupted  the  singer, 
followed  by  excitement  in  which  all  three 
seemed  to  be  talking  at  once.  Felix,  for- 
gotten, ran  out  to  me. 

"Little  mother,  come,  Ramon  is  fighting 
Tezpi,  and  the  Padre,  too.  Come  and  stop 
them." 

But  there  was  no  fighting  to  be  stopped  when 
I  reached  the  garden.  Instead,  Ramon,  weep- 
ing, was  locked  in  Tezpi's  arms.  The  Padre 
stood  in  an  attitude  of  blessing  above  them. 
He  was  praying.  Confusedly  I  heard  the 
words,  "This  my  son,  which  was  lost,  and  is 
found." 

I  stood  looking  for  some  minutes  in  aston- 
ishment and  mute  dismay.  No  one  of  the 
group,  least  of  all  my  brother,  noticed  me. 
Unreasoning,  a  fierce  anger  swept  me.  He 
was  my  brother.  Tezpi,  Nahua,  no  one  should 
take  him  away  from  me.  Yet  if  he  wanted  to 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT          193 

go?  I  stole  noiselessly  from  the  room,  picked 
up  Felix,  and  ran  out  into  the  night. 

Hours  later,  Ramon  found  me  face  down- 
ward, sobbing,  beside  the  cataract. 

"Little  sister  ?"  he  said  as  his  foot  stumbled 
against  me  in  the  dark.  "Ah,  I  thought  I 
should  find  you  here."  He  sat  down  beside 
me,  and  tried  to  lift  my  head  to  his  lap. 

I  resisted,  refusing  to  be  moved. 

"But  what  is  it?  I  have  never  seen  you  like 
this,  Porfiria!" 

I  made  no  sign;  I  could  not. 

He  began  again  presently,  in  the  even,  sooth- 
ing voice  he  used  to  quiet  Felix.  "Listen,  a 
great  joy  has  come  to  me.  You,  with  whom 
I  have  shared  so  many  sorrows,  to  whom  else 
should  I  turn  to  share  this?" 

"I  was  not  asked  to  share  it,"  I  muttered. 

Perhaps  Ramon  did  not  hear  me.  At  any 
rate,  he  began  softly  to  stroke  my  hair  and 
continued : — 

"You  were  too  little  to  remember  the  day 
when  your  father  brought  me  home.  But  I 


194  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

can  never  forget.  There  were  five  other  chil- 
dren, your  brothers  and  sisters,  and  you,  a 
baby,  in  your  mother's  arms.  The  hut  was 
small  and  your  father  only  a  fisherman,  and 
poor,  as  all  Indians  seem  to  be.  Yet  your 
mother's  heart  opened  when  she  saw  me,  lying 
half  drowned  and  altogether  wretched,  in  your 
father's  arms.  She  asked  no  questions,  even, 
but  laid  you  down  quickly,  and  caught  me  up 
and  warmed  me  on  her  heart." 

I  listened,  but  what  had  this  to  do  with  the 
present?  I  reached  over  to  tuck  my  rebozo 
more  carefully  about  little  Felix,  who  had 
fallen  asleep  beside  me. 

Ramon  noticed  the  gesture.  "Porfiria,  even 
as  you  care  for  Felix,  I  cared  for  you,  when 
you  and  I  were  left  with  the  dear  grandparents 
after  you  were  orphaned.  Your  people  became 
my  people,  until  gradually  I  forgot  that  I  had 
ever  had  another  home.  Only  the  lullaby  with 
which  my  mother  sang  me  to  sleep  remained  of 
all  my  memories,  and  that  because  I  sang  it 
to  you,  night  after  night,  beside  the  lake. 


MY    MOTHER 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT          195 

To-night  I  heard  that  lullaby  from  other  lips 
for  the  first  time  since  I  was  a  baby." 

He  continued  talking,  but  my  mind  was  in  a 
whirl,  and  the  words  escaped  me,  even  then. 
In  a  flash,  I  saw  the  meaning  of  the  scene  in 
the  garden  from  which  I  had  fled,  and,  not  only 
that,  but  of  the  heretofore  unintelligible 
jealousy  in  my  heart.  Tezpi  was  Ramon's 
father  and  Nahua  his  sister.  Who,  then,  was 
I? 

Had  I  been  younger,  I  would  have  thrown 
myself  upon  Ramon  in  a  passion  of  grief,  and 
implored  him  to  answer  the  question.  As  it 
was,  I  gathered  myself  up  in  a  silent,  miserable 
heap,  and  made  an  effort  to  listen  once  more. 

"Dear  Porfiria,"  he  was  saying,  "I  told  you 
that  it  was  a  great  joy  to  me  to  have  found  my 
kindred — perhaps,  had  my  mother  lived,  I 
might  have  felt  the  tie  more  strongly.  But 
to-night,  see,  I  have  come  from  my  father's 
house  to  you.  How  shall  I  live  without  you, 
or  apart  from  you,  or  not  plan  for  you,  my 
sister,  my  all  ?" 


196  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

Strong  emotion  swept  him,  and  I  in  my  outer 
darkness  trembled  in  unison.  How  indeed 
should  we  cease  the  comradeship  of  years,  or 
admit  to  a  closer  relation  those  who  but  yes- 
terday had  been  as  strangers?  I  could  not 
doubt  his  suffering.  I  saw  that  neither 
Nahua's  beauty,  nor  Tezpi's  authority  weighed 
with  Ramon  against  his  attachment  to  me. 
Brown,  and  plain,  and  destitute  as  I  was,  he 
held  me  his  sister,  the  child  of  his  benefactors, 
to  whom  he  was  bound  by  a  thousand  habitual 
ties. 

For  a  long  time  neither  of  us  spoke,  but  my 
hand  sought  his  and  he  held  it  close. 

"I  am  not  unmindful  of  my  duties  to  my 
father  and  to  my  tribe,"  Ramon  said,  at  length. 
"Nor  are  they  unreasonable,  but  simple  and 
humble,  as  you  know.  But  I  have  belonged, 
heart  and  soul,  to  the  misfortunes  of  your 
people.  It  was  only  to-night  that  Tezpi 
brought  news  which,  at  last,  gives  me  hope  that 
we  may  yet  find  Don  Luis." 

"News  of  Don  Luis,  Ramon?" 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT          197 

"Nay,  not  directly,  but  of  the  course  of  the 
Revolution.  Madero  is  dead,  and  a  new  dic- 
tator rules  in  Mexico.  The  dungeons  of  San 
Juan  de  Uloa  have  been  opened,  and  the 
prisoners  released." 

"Can  it  be  true  ?"  I  questioned,  awestruck  by 
the  immensity  of  the  possibilities  unfolded. 
For  three  hundred  years  the  gates  of  San  Juan 
de  Uloa  had  closed  on  political  suspects  as 
inexorably  as  those  of  death  itself.  By  no 
other  avenue  could  release  come  to  the  unhappy 
souls  in  it. 

"The  word  was  brought  by  a  bandido  from 
these  parts,  who  was  set  free  at  the  time,  Tezpi 
said.  To-morrow  I  shall  see  the  man  myself." 

How  long  Ramon  and  I  might  have 
remained  talking  in  the  darkness  that  drew  us 
so  close,  like  the  perplexities  which  surrounded 
us,  I  do  not  know.  It  was  not  so  much  to 
learn  of  Ramon's  plans,  which  he  himself  had 
not  yet  made.  Unconsciously  I  clung  to  these, 
which  proved  to  be  our  last  moments  alone. 
Even  the  thought  of  the  Padre  did  not  obtrude. 


198  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

As  if  in  a  dream,  far  off,  I  heard  the  uneasy 
tumble  of  the  cataract,  like  the  clamor  of  the 
outer  world  that  called  us. 

But  Felix,  whose  sleep  was  troubled,  waked 
and  began  to  cry.  He  was  cold  and  uncom- 
fortable, and  wanted  to  be  put  to  bed.  I 
gathered  him  up  and  gave  him  to  Ramon. 
Hand  in  hand,  we  walked  silently  home. 

The  light  which  streamed  from  the  cottage 
showed  that  the  Padre  was  still  up.  He  met 
us  at  the  door  with  an  anxious,  thoughtful  look, 
But  aside  from  giving  us  an  especially  loving 
blessing,  he  said  nothing,  and  I  passed  on  at 
once  to  my  chamber.  There,  until  the  dawn 
broke,  I  heard  Ramon  and  the  Padre  talking. 
At  length  the  voices  blurred  and  blended  and 
became  those  of  the  cataract,  calling,  calling, 
calling  my  Ramon  away. 

When  I  woke,  Ramon  had  gone.  Incredible 
as  it  seemed,  it  was  true.  He  had  gone  to 
Mexico,  the  Padre  said,  to  find  Don  Luis. 
The  loneliness  I  felt  was  a  physical  sickness. 
The  Padre,  even  Felix,  appeared  unreal  and 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT          199 

without  reason.  I  had  no  ears  for  the  Padre's 
explanation  that  it  was  wiser  so,  and  that 
Ramon  had  thought  to  save  me  pain.  I  only 
knew  that  I,  who  up  till  now  had  been  Ramon's 
comrade  and  the  confidante  of  all  our  plans, 
was  suddenly  shut  out, — not  even  asked  to 
pack  his  little  bundle  for  the  journey. 

I  went  about  the  house.  There,  in  his  room, 
was  left  the  sash  he  ought  to  have  worn;  on 
the  loom  was  a  cloak,  finished  except  for  the 
border,  which  I  had  intended  to  have  ready 
for  him  to  wear  at  the  Feast  of  the  Virgin  of 
Guadalupe ; 96  in  the  kitchen  no  breakfast  had 
been  made  ready,  and  no  food  touched. 

All  day,  while  the  Padre  was  away  at  the 
school,  or  caring  for  other  community  inter- 
ests, my  loneliness  increased.  Not  till  then 
did  I  realize  how  much  Ramon  and  I  had  been 
together,  in  our  care  of  each  other  and  of  Felix, 
since  our  settling  in  the  village.  Sometimes 
it  had  been  only  for  a  snatch  of  something  to 
eat,  or  to  work  in  the  garden  or  among  the  bee- 
hives we  once  more  kept,  that  he  appeared,  but 


200  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

sometimes  for  whole  heavenly  afternoons  he, 
Felix  and  I,  sat  under  the  trees  by  the  cool 
cataract  while  he  played  his  flute,  or  carved 
his  wonderful  violin. 

It  was  there  that  we  remembered  together 
the  dangers  and  sorrows  through  which  we 
had  passed,  and  spoke  bravely  of  the  future, 
marveling  what  it  might  hold  in  store.  What 
had  become  of  Lola,  of  Almonte,  of  Ramon's 
master,  and  uppermost  always  in  our  thoughts, 
of  Don  Luis?  Some  day,  we  knew,  we  must 
go  forth  to  find  the  answers.  But  the  time  of 
our  going  we  left  to  the  Padre.  That  our 
quest  should  involve  separation,  was,  to  me,  a 
new  and  terrible  thought. 

Even  less  than  I  had  done  before  Ramon's 
departure  could  I  bring  myself  now  to  mingle 
with  the  village  girls.  I  answered  when  they 
spoke  to  me,  and  went  with  them  when  I  was 
asked.  But  I  did  not  seek  them.  That  they 
were  Ramon's  people,  and  entitled  to  my 
interest,  the  Padre  told  me  again  and  again. 
It  made  no  difference.  And  when  Tezpi  and 


TE2PI    AND    NAHUA 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT          201 

Nahua  coaxed  me  out  and  talked  to  me  of 
Ramon,  I  answered  them  at  random. 

We  had  in  reality  only  one  interest  in  com- 
mon, our  concern  that  we  had  heard  no  word 
either  of  Ramon  or  of  the  bandit  it  was  his 
intention  to  see  when  he  left.  This  last, 
though  disquieting,  was  not  unnatural.  In 
our  troublous  times,  when  all,  the  innocent 
with  the  guilty,  were  hunted,  wariness  was 
one's  best  defense.  Acting  on  this  theory,  the 
bandit  had  probably  betaken  himself  to  regions 
even  more  remote  than  ours. 

As  the  days  dragged  by,  Felix  became  my 
greatest  comfort,  as  he  had  been  at  the 
hacienda  long  before.  His  little  fingers 
probed  my  wounds  so  innocently,  and  healed 
them  by  awakening  the  happy  memories  we 
shared.  He  felt  no  aloofness  toward  any  one ; 
how  should  he  whose  heart  was  so  full  of  love  ? 
But  the  village,  while  it  adored  him,  regarded 
him  as  of  a  different  world.  This  was  not 
due  to  his  parentage,  for  he  was  still  supposed 
to  be  my  younger  brother,  but  to  the  real 


202  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

nobility  of  his  nature.  How  shall  I  describe 
him?  Whether  it  were  his  eyes,  gray  like 
agates,  yet  deep  as  the  rippled  lake,  his 
gracious  mouth,  upcurved  in  laughter  or 
sweetly  grave,  his  thoughtful  forehead,  his 
perfect  stature,  or  the  spirit  that  informed  all 
with  loveliness, — I  know  not  which  were  most 
endearing,  or  most  to  be  cherished.  Could 
Dona  Marina,  his  mother,  have  seen  him,  I 
think  even  her  heart  would  have  been  satisfied. 
To  her  and  to  the  Madonna  also  I  prayed  for 
guidance,  as  I  taught  him  of  the  beautiful 
mother  who  awaited  him  in  heaven.  But  I 
sorrowed  that  here  on  earth  she  might  not 
know  his  love. 


CHAPTER  XV 

TEZPI,  the  chief  or  alcalde,  of  the  Tecos 
village,  was  also  the  wise  man  of  the 
tribe.  This  was  in  accordance  with  the 
ancient  custom  of  our  people,  whose  king  was 
the  high  priest  as  well.  Before  the  time  of 
the  Conquistador es,  before  even  the  Aztecs 
rose  to  power  in  the  Valley  of  Mexico,  the 
Tarascos  had  governed  thousands  of  leagues 
of  fertile  land  in  the  heart  of  our  country. 
Moctezuma  never  subdued  them  to  become  a 
part  of  his  empire,  nor  did  the  Spaniards  ever 
hold  sway  over  us,  though  by  treachery  they 
killed  our  king  and  stole  our  riches  and  our 
lands.  Indeed,  had  it  not  been  for  the  influ- 
ence of  the  Church,  we  should  have  had  noth- 
ing more  to  do  with  the  enemies  of  our  country. 
Thus,  at  least,  Tezpi  and  the  Padre  dis- 
coursed on  the  history  of  our  race  in  the  cool 

203 


204  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

of  the  evening,  beneath  the  orange  trees.  A 
certain  Bishop  Quiroga  was  sent  by  the  Span- 
ish king  to  govern  us,  after  our  confidence  had 
been  so  shamefully  abused  by  his  predecessors. 
He,  by  means  of  kindness  and  justice,  induced 
our  ancestors  to  leave  the  caves  and  crags 
where  they  had  taken  refuge  from  the  Span- 
iards, and  to  return  to  their  homes.  Cities  he 
built  and  churches,  and  fostered  the  native  in- 
dustries, and  taught  by  precept  and  example 
the  way  of  Christ. 

Once  more,  then,  the  Tarascan  men  took  up 
the  crafts  for  which  they  had  long  been  fa- 
mous, the  cutting  of  stone  and  the  working  of 
copper ;  and  once  more  their  women  wove  blue 
cotton  stuffs,  and  lacquered  gay  dishes  of 
gourds.  But  the  most  notable  of  our  arts  fell 
into  disuse  with  the  fall  of  our  monarchy.  The 
beautiful  embroideries  of  feather-work,  of 
which  the  robes  of  kings  and  courtiers  had 
been  made,  were  needed  no  more.  Yet  the 
Tarascan  merchants,  who  in  those  older  days 
had  set  forth  in  great  companies,  and  traded 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT          205 

as  far  as  Guatemala  on  the  south  and  the  Rio 
Grande  on  the  north,  still  kept  up  the  tradi- 
tions of  their  guild.  So  lately  as  the  Padre's 
last  visit  to  Huitzitzilin  ten  years  before,  they 
had  gone,  in  smaller  bands  to  be  sure,  twice 
a  year  over  the  mountains  to  Mexico  City  and 
the  coast  of  the  Pacific  to  market  their  wares. 

"How  came  it  about,  Tezpi,"  I  heard  the 
Padre  ask  one  evening,  "that  these  caravans 
were  given  up?  Was  it  on  account  of  the 
war?" 

"No,  not  in  the  first  place/'  Tezpi  replied. 
"Our  misfortunes  began  with  the  mildew  that 
rotted  our  corn  six  years  ago.  That  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  year  of  drouth,  and  then  came  the 
war.  You  remember  us  as  a  thrifty  tribe, 
owning  cattle  and  horses,  and  tilling  many  up- 
land ranches,  besides  our  village  lands.  Last 
fall,  when  we  went  to  the  mountain,"  his  eyes 
sought  the  ground  in  momentary  shame, — "it 
was  to  pray  to  the  God  for  our  very  lives.  We 
had  no  longer  horses,  cattle,  or  corn,  nor  hope 
left  in  our  hearts." 


206  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

"Hope  was  what  you  most  needed,  Tezpi," 
said  the  Padre,  looking  out  over  the  fertile 
glade  where  water  brought  from  the  cataract 
rendered  the  disaster  of  another  drouth  im- 
possible. "Here  were  you  starving  in  the 
midst  of  plenty.  It  is  but  another  picture  of 
your  unhappy  country,  so  blessed  by  God  with 
all  riches,  and  so  accursed  by  man  that  you 
have  no  longer  the  eyes  to  see,  nor  the  will  to 
use,  his  gifts !" 

That  the  soul  and  genius  of  our  downtrod- 
den race  should  not  die,  but  live,  revivifying 
Mexico,  I  had  long  since  learned  was  the  pur- 
pose of  all  Padre  Francisco's  endeavors.  If 
he  could  rouse  to  life  a  spirit  of  honor  and  in- 
dependence, even  in  this  small  corner  of  our 
country,  he  would  be  following  in  the  foot- 
steps of  Hidalgo  and  Quiroga  and  undoing,  to 
the  measure  of  his  ability,  the  wrongs  inflicted 
by  the  tyranny  of  church  and  state.  Thus  it 
came  about  that  he  seemed  to  take  less  inter- 
est than  formerly  in  the  course  of  outward 
events,  and  threw  all  his  energy  into  the  task 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT         207 

which  he  had  set  himself.  Now  that  Ramon 
was  gone,  there  was  more  need  of  finding 
wholesome  employment  for  the  young  men  of 
the  village,  who  missed  his  leadership. 

The  Padre  therefore  determined  to  revive 
the  dyeing  industry  for  which  the  hamlet  had 
once  been  famous.  Because  of  our  own  wars 
and,  as  we  had  already  learned  in  Lerma,  of 
the  wars  in  Europe,  the  foreign-made  chemical ' 
dyes  were  no  longer  obtainable.  This  pre- 
sented an  unusually  good  opportunity  for  our 
stuffs,  could  they  be  transported  to  market. 
Fields  were  again  planted  with  indigo,  and 
old  men  taught  the  younger  ones  their  cultiva- 
tion and  the  making  of  the  dye.  The  revival 
of  the  dyeing  meant  a  corresponding  stimulus 
among  the  women  in  weaving.  From  forgot- 
ten corners  old  patterns  were  brought  out  to 
be  copied.  Cotton  fields  vied  with  indigo 
fields  in  luxuriance.  That  winter  almost  the 
entire  yield  of  cotton  was  made  up  in  blue  and 
white.  There  was  cloth  by  the  yard,  coarse 
for  skirts,  and  finer  for  waists.  But  the  pride 


208  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

of  the  village  went  into  the  making  of  rebozos, 
with  diapered  borders,  and  curiously  knotted 
fringes. 

We  had  sheep  also  in  our  district,  and  the 
Padre  saw  to  it  that  they  had  good  pasturage 
and  water,  to  improve  their  coats.  This  wool, 
when  carded  and  spun,  was  also  dyed  and 
woven  into  blankets  and  tilmas,  as  the  short 
cloaks  of  the  men  were  called. 

Every  one,  it  seemed,  who  was  not  engaged 
in  these  various  processes,  was  busy  manufac- 
turing gicaras.97  These  were  dishes,  of  vary- 
ing sizes,  made  from  calabash  gourds.  The 
gourds,  when  dried,  were  lacquered  in  red  and 
inlaid  in  blue  in  designs  of  birds  and  flowers. 
Very  gay  they  were  in  appearance,  and  durable 
also.  All  our  table  dishes,  including  ladles  and 
cups,  were  made  of  this  ware. 

Gradually,  a  sort  of  trade  was  built  up  be- 
tween our  village  and  other  hamlets  similarly 
hidden  among  the  mountains,  the  Padre  usu- 
ally accompanying  the  men  chosen  to  market 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT          209 

our  commodities.  But  as  he  went  to  and  fro 
with  them,  he  came  home  with  tales  of  misery 
and  hopelessness  that  wrung  his  heart.  Ex- 
cept for  one  or  two  villages  where  thrift  and 
sobriety  ruled,  all  were  in  the  condition  of 
shiftless  starvation  in  which  we  had  found 
Huitzitzilin  when  we  first  came  to  it.  But  see- 
ing the  benefits  of  our  industry,  and  hearing 
the  Padre  or  Tezpi  in  the  market  places  exhort 
to  better  living,  made  its  impression.  The  vil- 
lages began  to  send  delegations  to  the  Padre 
imploring  that  he  come  and  teach  them  in 
turn. 

Doubtless  Padre  Francisco  would  have  ac- 
ceded to  some  of  these  demands,  had  it  not 
been  for  Felix  and  me.  Many  a  time  I  saw 
him  regard  us  with  troubled  eyes,  his  soul 
yearning  for  the  wider  usefulness  to  which, 
without  thought  of  personal  comfort  or  safety, 
he  longed  to  give  himself.  Yet  Felix  he  held 
as  a  dying  charge  from  Dona  Marina,  his  ben- 
efactress, and  me  he  ever  regarded  as  the  al- 


210  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

most  miraculous  preserver  of  his  life.  He 
could  not  leave  us,  even  with  Tezpi,  and  go  in 
peace. 

Therefore,  with  Tezpi's  consent,  he  por- 
tioned out  among  these  communities,  men  of 
our  village,  strong  of  character,  to  live  there 
with  their  families  and,  as  he  put  it  in  his 
special  service  when  he  sent  them  forth,  "to  be 
a  light  in  a  dark  place."  To  the  communities 
in  need  of  it,  were  sent  also  quotas  of  seed 
corn.  Thus  it  came  about  that  in  a  year's  time, 
our  village  developed  a  spiritual  and  material 
leadership  among  the  mountains,  for  several 
leagues  around.  Gradually  each  village,  fos- 
tered in  this  way  in  its  native  resources, 
whether  the  making  of  potteries,  the  tilling  of 
corn,  or  the  raising  of  sheep,  and  quickened 
in  spirit,  sought  counsel  not  only  from  the 
Padre,  but  from  Tezpi  as  well. 

It  must  not  be  supposed,  however,  that  this 
development  was  entirely  tranquil,  though 
among  the  villagers  themselves  there  were  few 
enmities.  Whatever  disputes  arose,  were  set- 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT         211 

tied  immediately  the  Padre  appeared.  All 
loved  him  and  looked  up  to  him,  understanding 
to  a  greater  or  less  degree  that  he  loved  them 
enough  to  give  his  life,  as  he  was  doing,  for 
their  betterment.  "Greater  love  hath  no  man 
than  this,"  he  preached.  They  looked  at  his 
shining  face,  caught  his  inspiration,  and  fol- 
lowed humbly  where  he  led. 

But  the  increasing  turbulence  of  the  times, 
though  we  were  neither  prosperous  nor  numer- 
ous enough  to  be  drawn  from  our  out-of-the- 
way  corner  into  any  of  the  factions  fighting 
for  power,  was  manifest  in  growing  lawless- 
ness throughout  the  mountains.  In  the  quick 
succession  of  governments  in  Mexico,  and  the 
rise  and  fall  of  their  adherents,  our  very  inac- 
cessibility invited  refugees,  even  as  it  had  in- 
vited us.  The  bandit  who  had  escaped  from 
San  Juan  de  Uloa  was  but  the  first  of  numbers 
seeking  asylum.  Sometimes  they  were  only 
the  straggling  remnants  of  a  village  looted,  be- 
cause it  lay  in  the  path  of  contending  forces; 
sometimes  they  were  the  looters  themselves, 


212  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

recuperating  on  their  way  to  richer  prizes.  At 
other  times  the  stranger  in  our  midst  proved 
to  be  a  deserting  soldier,  or  a  hunted  political 
chief.  From  all  except  those  in  distress,  both 
the  hereditary  instinct  of  the  Indians  and  the 
counsel  of  the  Padre,  held  us  aloof.  Each  vil- 
lage posted  sentries  and  sent  the  word  of  such 
arrivals  on  from  one  to  another,  either  by 
couriers,  or  by  signal  fires.  If  the  visitors 
seemed  likely  to  pass  near  any  habitation,  the 
women  and  children  were  secreted  and  the 
flocks  driven  to  safe  shelters.  But  the  men, 
for  the  Tarascos  are  as  brave  now  as  in  the 
days  of  our  last  Calzontzin™  remained  to  pro- 
tect their  property,  if  need  be,  with  their 
lives. 

Undoubtedly  this  intrepidity  saved  us  from 
the  attacks  of  our  frequently  unwelcome 
guests.  But  the  total  absence  of  roads,  and 
the  inaccessibility  of  our  villages  were  our 
chief  protection.  Thus  we  in  Huitzitzilin  had 
seen  only  the  bandit,  of  all  those  of  whom  we 
had  been  warned. 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT         213 

The  Padre,  going  from  village  to  village,  on 
donkey-back  or  on  foot,  was  naturally  far  more 
exposed  than  we.  Nor  was  there  in  those  days 
protection  in  the  habit  of  priest  or  nun.  Those 
who  were  most  ardent  for  liberty,  were  most 
bitter  against  the  Church  for  its  abuses.  I 
was  full  of  anxiety,  therefore,  on  his  account. 
To  add  to  my  concern,  he  made  light  of  the 
danger,  and  even  courted  for  himself  the  con- 
tact he  advised  against  for  others,  in  the  hope 
of  gleaning  information  of  the  outside  world. 

These  chance  encounters  of  his  had  been 
fruitful  of  many  startling  disclosures,  and,  so 
far,  of  no  ill.  The  news  of  the  fall  of  Presi- 
dent Madero  was  followed  by  intelligence  of 
the  fall  of  his  successor.  A  certain  Carranza, 
a  lawyer,  the  Padre  learned,  was  now  in  power, 
and  most  significant  of  the  temper  of  his  rule, 
had  abolished  the  office  of  jefe  politico.  I  can 
well  remember  the  Padre's  excitement  when 
he  came  home  with  this  news. 

"Porfiria,"  said  he,  "mark  my  words.  No 
more  important  event  has  happened  in  the  his- 


214  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

tory  of  your  country  these  thirty  years.  With 
every  upheaval  we  have  had  the  same  watch- 
word: Land  for  the  peones,  but  each  time  it 
has  proved  a  mirage  above  the  limitless  desert 
of  oppression  and  injustice.  Here,  by  con- 
trast, is  a  deed.  What  will  it  not  mean  to  be 
free  of  the  espionage  of  an  agent  paid  by  and 
responsible  only  to  the  oppressor?  Justice  is 
beginning.  Would  to  God  that  it  might  have 
come  earlier,  to  save  us  all." 

He  relapsed  into  silence,  and  I  knew  he  was 
thinking  of  Dona  Marina  and  her  terrible  fate. 
He  had  not  forgotten:  I  began  to  see  that, 
for  all  his  preoccupation  which  left  me  doubly 
lonely,  the  misfortunes  of  the  hacienda  were 
still  the  mainsprings  of  his  activities. 

That  night  his  hand  rested  with  added  kind- 
ness upon  my  head.  "Courage,  Porfiria;  we 
shall  yet  hear  of  Ramon  and  Don  Luis.  God 
is  working  out  his  own  plan  for  them  and  for 
us."  He  stood  for  some  minutes  looking  at 
me  and  at  little  Felix,  whom  I  had  just  tucked 
into  bed.  Then,  with  a  quick  motion,  he 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT 


215 


brushed  the  hair  from  my  forehead,  and 
stooped  and  kissed  it.  "Never  think,  child, 
that  I  do  not  understand  your  heartache.  I 
also  pray  for  Ramon." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

SOFTENED  by  Padre  Francisco's  sym- 
pathy, I  began  to  take  a  more  normal  and 
human  interest  in  our  surroundings.  It  no 
longer  seemed  unbearable  to  me  to  listen  of  an 
evening  in  the  plaza  to  the  music  which  Felix 
so  loved.  What  if  Ramon  were  not  in  his  ac- 
customed place  ?  The  music,  at  least,  was  his ! 
A  message,  almost,  it  seemed  from  him  to  me. 
And  when  Nahua  joined  me,  timidly  at  first, 
and  walked  with  us  beneath  the  limes,  I  found 
that  the  praise  of  Ramon  sounded  sweet  to 
me,  even  from  her  lips.  After  all,  she  was 
only  half-sister  to  Ramon,  her  mother  belong- 
ing to  an  entirely  different  tribe.  Thus  she 
seemed,  to  my  mind,  to  have  a  less  direct  claim 
upon  him.  My  love,  almost  against  my  will, 
responded  to  hers,  and  again  I  went  with  her 
to  the  woods  and  the  fields. 

But   it  was   little   five-year-old   Felix  who 
216 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT          217 

brought  my  numb  heart  back  to  life.  How 
really  lonely  he  was !  I  did  not  realize  it  until 
one  day  I  heard  him  talking  to  some  children 
who  lived  at  the  lower  end  of  the  village. 
They  belonged  to  a  shiftless  group  of  families 
that  had  not  profited  by  Padre  Francisco's 
teaching  nor  the  example  of  our  neighbors. 
Yet  the  children,  who  had  nothing  lovely  at 
home,  had  a  love  of  beauty  which  brought  them 
often  to  our  garden,  with  its  wealth  of  blos- 
soms and  flitting  humming-birds.  There  they 
clustered  about  the  gate,  and  with  their  wistful 
glances,  begged  for  flowers. 

We  had  now  come  to  Holy  Week,  and  there 
had  been  much  talk  of  decorating  the  altars  in 
the  church  for  the  Easter  services.  Birds 
were  to  be  used  likewise ;  and  Felix  already  had 
a  dozen  cages  of  humming-birds,  mocking 
birds,  song  sparrows  and  thrushes  which  he 
and  I  had  snared.  These  were  to  be  kept  till 
Easter  morning,  when  they  were  all  to  be  set 
free  among  the  flowers  in  the  church.  Every 
one  in  the  village,  and  in  the  villages  round 


218  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

about,  had  been  urged  by  the  Padre  to  bring 
an  offering  of  birds  or  flowers.  The  service 
was  their  service,  and  thus  they  could  take  part 
in  it. 

But  the  poor  "little  shameless  ones,"  as 
Felix  called  our  ragged  children,  what  could 
they  bring?  Some  such  thought  must  have 
been  in  his  mind  on  the  Saturday  of  Glory 
when  I  heard  him,  in  his  sweet  voice,  ask  the 
children  in.  There  were  perhaps  a  dozen  of 
them,  as  I  could  see  from  the  porch  where  I 
was  setting  the  last  stitches  in  the  embroidery 
of  my  holiday  chemise.  With  childish  dignity, 
he  showed  them  everything:  the  bees  in  their 
neat  hives  beneath  the  myrtle  trees;  the  birds 
in  cages  hung  among  the  cool,  green  orange 
leaves;  and  the  flowers,  roses,  violets,  lilies, 
Virgin's  Mantles,  and  a  score  of  others,  which 
made  our  little  yard  a  paradise  of  scent  and 
color.  For  each  child  he  picked  a  bouquet, 
prattling  the  while  of  "the  little  San  Fran- 
cisco," who  so  loved  the  children,  the  birds, 
and  the  flowers. 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT         219 

"And  who  is  he  ?"  I  heard  one  urchin  ask. 

Felix  stopped  in  amazement.  "Have  you 
never  heard  my  Padre  in  the  church?"  His 
glance  went  from  one  to  another. 

Most  of  the  children  shook  their  heads. 

"But  see  then,  that  is  why  you  are  so  poor 
and  so  dirty.  Come  with  me,  and  I  will  tell 
you  of  him." 

At  that  moment,  a  message  was  brought 
from  Nahua,  asking  me  to  help  her  in  mak- 
ing the  church  ready  for  the  festival,  and  I 
went. 

When  I  returned,  some  two  hours  later, 
Felix  was  not  in  the  garden.  Evidently  the 
children  had  coaxed  him  away.  At  last  I 
found  him,  beside  the  path  the  goatherds  trav- 
eled to  the  mountain  pastures.  He  was  seated 
with  his  back  to  me,  and  in  a  circle  about  him 
were  not  only  the  ragged  children  he  had  be- 
friended, but  perhaps  a  score  more,  drinking  in 
the  story  he  was  telling.  So  pretty  a  picture 
as  they  made  on  the  greensward  in  the  flecked 
light  and  shadow  cast  by  a  mighty  oak  tree, 


220  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

Felix  expounding,  and  they  listening,  I  have 
never  seen. 

I  stole  up  quietly  behind  him.  He  was  still 
talking  of  St.  Francis  of  Assisi,  the  Padre's 
patron  saint,  for  I  heard  him  say:  "But  he 
said,  Tittle  brother  bird,  do  not  be  frightened. 
I  will  save  you  from  the  cruel  boys.' ' 

It  seemed  a  pity  to  interrupt  him.  Yet  I 
could  see  that  his  cheeks  were  flushed,  and 
feared  lest  the  unusual  excitement  make  him  ill. 
So  I  spoke: 

"Good  morning,  Don  Felix,  and  do  you  not 
think  it  is  time  you  came  home?" 

He  sprang  to  his  feet,  quite  embarrassed, 
both  because  he  had  run  away,  and  because  I 
had  come  upon  him  there,  before  all  his  new 
friends.  "Oh,  mother,  little  mother,"  he  cried 
— for  such  he  always  called  me — "how  long  a 
time  you  have  been  gone !" 

After  that  day,  Felix  would  never  allow  "his 
children"  to  be  called  shameless.  Nor,  in  fact, 
did  they  deserve  that  title  long. 

On  Easter  Sunday,  in  the  clean,  flower-gar- 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT         221 

landed  church,  I  looked  about  among  the  shin- 
ing faces  of  the  congregation  who  had  come, 
some  of  them,  as  far  as  ten  leagues  to  be  pres- 
ent at  the  commemoration  of  the  Rising  of  our 
Lord.  The  contrast  between  them,  bright- 
eyed,  neatly  dressed,  decorous,  and  the  half- 
clad,  dirty  villagers  who  had  gathered  in  this 
same  church  only  a  year  and  a  half  before  to 
hear  the  Padre's  first  sermon,  was  unbelievable. 
And  when  the  black  curtain  was  drawn  back 
from  the  high  altar,  and  the  birds  soared,  sing- 
ing, out  of  sight,  I  thought  that  the  text  of 
his  sermon  on  that  day  had  come  true.  We 
had  a  song  in  the  night,  and  gladness  of  heart 
in  these,  our  mountains  of  the  Lord. 

But  what,  I  considered  disquietedly,  had  I 
done  to  bring  this  change  about  ?  What  could 
I  do,  now  that  I  had  become  almost  a  woman, 
in  my  fourteenth  year?  I  longed  to  rise  also, 
from  the  place  of  sorrow  I  had  made  myself  in 
my  grieving  for  Ramon.  Here  in  this  conse- 
crated place  of  hope,  I  felt  suddenly  sure  that  he 
would  return.  How  should  I  retrieve  my  in- 


222  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

difference,  and  make  myself  worthy  of  him 
when  he  came? 

In  a  dark  corner  of  the  church,  my  eyes  fell 
upon  Felix's  dirty  little  comrades.  Evidently 
no  mother's  hand  had  washed  their  faces,  nor 
clothed  them  for  the  day.  But  each  had  made 
pitiful  efforts  at  improvement,  and  each  wore 
a  wreath  of  flowers.  Of  their  own  accord, 
they  had  come  for  the  first  time  to  church.  A 
lump  rose  in  my  throat.  The  Lord  had  an- 
swered my  prayer,  I  thought,  and  here  was  the 
mission  given  to  me. 

That  very  afternoon,  I  began  by  visiting  the 
cheerless  group  of  homes  which  was  such  a 
blot  on  our  village.  Felix  went  with  me,  radi- 
ant with  delight  at  my  plan.  Together  we 
asked  permission  of  the  fathers  and  mothers 
to  take  the  children  with  us  each  fair  day,  up 
by  the  cataract.  Whether  any  would  have  re- 
sponded to  me,  I  know  not,  but  in  not  one  of 
the  four  homes  was  there  any  who  failed  to  be 
won  by  Felix's  plea,  "Please  let  them  come  and 
play  with  me." 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT          223 

Every  morning  until  the  rainy  season  in 
June  they  came,  twenty  of  them,  in  ages  rang- 
ing from  four  to  eight,  and  I  taught  them. 
Yet  I  doubt  if  they  knew  they  were  being 
taught.  One  day  was  swimming  day  in  a 
quiet  pool;  another  time  we  gathered  wild 
flowers  and  named  them ;  or  again  I  told  them, 
stories.  But  the  effect  was  magical.  Though 
years  of  neglect  prevented  their  minds  from 
developing,  as  it  did  their  little  garden  plots 
from  blooming  with  the  luxuriance  of  ours,  by 
summer  a  beginning  had  been  made. 

Padre  Francisco,  all  this  time,  was  going 
through  a  period  of  great  disappointment  in 
the  larger  development  of  his  villages.  He 
had  hoped  much  from  Carranza's  rise  to  power. 
But  instead,  he  learned  from  this  refugee  or 
that  that  the  generals  of  his  army  had  fallen 
to  disputing  among  themselves.  In  the  very 
month  of  Easter,  the  city  of  Lerma  had  been 
carried  by  storm  by  one  of  these  generals ;  and 
a  little  later  Mexico  City  was  taken  by  another, 
a  former  bandit  from  the  south.  Anarchy 


224  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

ruled,  he  told  me  sadly,  throughout  the  coun- 
try. 

This  anarchy  was  manifested,  as  I  have  said, 
in  the  increasing  number  of  refugees  among 
our  mountains.  Watch  fires  and  couriers 
bringing  warnings  became  more  frequent  and 
we  lived  in  a  state  of  unrest,  though  as  yet 
neither  we  nor  our  property  had  suffered.  But 
the  Padre,  who  had  planned  to  resume  the  cus- 
tom of  taking  merchandise  to  the  City  of  Mex- 
ico for  sale,  realized  that  this  was  impossible 
at  present.  Even  could  our  merchants  get 
through,  the  direst  want  prevailed  there,  in 
the  very  center  of  all  the  revolutions. 

Among  ourselves,  though,  thanks  to  the 
Padre's  forethought,  barter  really  increased 
our  prosperity  to  a  pitch  the  mountain  Indians 
had  never  before  enjoyed,  there  was  disquiet 
owing  to  this  very  fact.  Ambition  was 
aroused,  and  now  and  again  some  of  the 
younger  men  broke  away  to  join  one  faction 
or  the  other  in  the  civil  war.  In  fact,  mes- 
sengers began  to  come  to  us  from  our  neigh- 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT         225 

bors  to  the  south,  who  were  fighting  under 
Zapata,  an  outlawed  Indian  farmer.  He  it 
was  to  whom  the  City  of  Mexico  had  recently 
fallen.  His  forces  were  made  up  of  mountain 
Indians,  like  ourselves,  who  were  fighting  for 
the  lands  from  which  they  had  been  unlaw- 
fully evicted.  Their  appeal,  therefore,  struck 
a  responsive  chord  in  our  hearts,  and  one  to 
which,  but  for  the  Padre,  our  villages  would  all 
have  responded  to  a  man. 

"But  why  ?"  I  often  heard  the  Padre  reason 
with  Tezpi  or  the  other  chiefs,  who  were 
fired  by  the  eloquence  of  the  southerners  and 
longing  to  fight,  "Why  should  you  leave  your 
homes,  and  wives  and  children,  and  lay  down 
your  lives?  For  what?  Have  you  not  here 
your  lands,  and  even  a  measure  of  security 
such  as  exists  perhaps  nowhere  else?  For 
whom  will  you  give  them  up  ?  It  is  Carranza, 
or  Zapata,  or  Villa,  stained  with  murders,  who 
will  be  your  savior  thus  at  the  price  of  blood 
and  countless  villainies  ?  Which  of  them,  fair 
in  promise,  will  you  trust? 


226 


THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 


"My  friends,  look  about  you  and  be  content. 
Behold  in  me,  if  you  will,  one  whom  God  hath 
sent  to  lead  you  in  peaceful  ways  to  that  same 
end  of  which  they  speak.  If  we,  in  this  cor- 
ner of  your  country,  can  work  out  your  in- 
dependence and  livelihood,  by  so  much  is  the 
general  orderliness  of  the  country  effected. 
Let  us  be  exemplars,  if  we  cannot  yet  be  mes- 
sengers, of  peace." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

BUT  the  war  to  which  we  did  not  go,  was 
destined  to  come  to  us.  It  was  in  the 
early  part  of  June  and  the  feast  of  Corpus 
Christi  was  at  hand.  Either  for  this  reason, 
or  because  they  had  become  accustomed  to 
alarms,  the  sentries  grew  lax.  Without  warn- 
ing of  any  kind,  a  cavalcade  of  a  hundred 
horsemen  came  riding  down  the  glen  one  day. 
Almost  before  I  was  aware  of  their  approach, 
for  the  horses  were  unshod,  they  were  full 
upon  me  and  my  little  band  of  children  at  the 
cataract. 

The  children  scattered,  taking  to  the  woods 
like  rabbits,  or  running  toward  the  village  as 
fast  as  their  legs  would  carry  them.  But  I 
had  a  hopeless  feeling  that  flight  was  impos- 
sible for  me.  Besides,  by  holding  the  band  in 

parley,  I  should  gain  time  for  the  children  to 

227 


228  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

alarm  the  villagers  below.  Felix  was  with 
me,  and  holding  him  tightly  by  the  hand,  I 
awaited  the  nearer  approach  of  the  band.  The 
little  barranca  was  so  narrow  that  they  came 
on  in  single  file,  their  leader  at  their  head.  Yet 
even  so  they  made  a  formidable  appearance, 
each  trooper  heavily  armed  with  cartridge 
belts,  a  musket  slung  on  his  back,  and  a  re- 
volver in  his  hand.  As  I  watched,  something 
familiar  in  the  gait  of  the  leader's  black  horse 
caught  my  eye.  The  toss  of  his  head,  the 
quickly  pointed  ears,  the  daintily  planted  hoofs, 
— did  I  not  know  them  all?  Almost  within 
reach  of  my  hand,  the  rider  pulled  up  sharply. 
At  the  same  instant  Mogul  recognized  me. 
His  glad  whinny  resounded  above  the  roar  of 
the  cataract,  and  he  fretted  frantically  at  the 
bit.  His  master,  utterly  nonplussed  by  the 
horse's  behavior,  so  at  variance  with  his  usual 
docility,  and  alive  to  the  dangers  of  the 
awakened  echoes,  raised  his  whip  to  strike. 
Were  Mogul  to  leap  forward  under  that 
impulse,  Felix  and  I  would  be  brushed  over  the 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT         229 

precipice  into  the  foaming  water  far  below. 
I  sprang  to  his  head.  The  whip  descended. 
Mogul  cowered,  but  his  hoofs  moved  not  an 
inch. 

From  my  position,  almost  beneath  his  quiv- 
ering body,  my  eyes  looked  straight  into  those 
of  his  rider.  The  heavy  sombrero  he  wore  no 
longer  hid  his  features  from  me.  Ramon's 
master,  the  music-maker  of  Lerma,  looked 
down  at  me. 

"Sefior  Perez!"  I  exclaimed. 

He  was  even  more  astonished  than  I,  for  of 
course  he  did  not  recognize  me,  whom  he  had 
seen  but  once  at  the  hacienda  on  the  mem- 
orable evening  when  I  had  brought  out  Ra- 
mon's flutes  at  his  request. 

"I  am  Ramon's  sister,"  I  hurried  on,  "and 
this — "  But  I  stopped  just  in  time,  before  re- 
vealing Felix's  identity.  How  did  I  know 
what  party  Sefior  Perez  might  now  belong  to, 
what  were  his  intentions,  or  whether  he  still 
entertained  friendly  feelings  toward  the  boy 
who  had  repaid  his  kindness  by  running  away? 


230  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

"Ramon's  sister — here!  And  where  is  Ra- 
mon ?" 

I  was  greatly  relieved  to  see  the  look  of  gen- 
uine kindliness  that  came  into  his  eyes. 

"He  is  gone  these  six  months  in  quest  of  Don 
Luis." 

"H'm — the  same  quest  which  took  him  from 
me, — as  I  supposed.  But  he  should  have 
trusted  me, — his  ingratitude  cut  me  to  the 
heart,  for  I  was  fond  of  the  lad." 

"But,  Senor,  it  was  to  save  you  from  dan- 
ger. All  this  the  Padre  can  explain  to  you 
better  than  I." 

"The  Padre?" 

"Padre  Francisco,  whom  you  doubtless  re- 
member; he  who  was  the  father  of  all  the  In- 
dians at  the  Hacienda  de  los  Pajaritos  Santos. 
He  is  now  in  the  village  down  yonder." 

Senor  Perez  deliberated  in  silence  for  a  mo- 
ment, then  turned  in  his  saddle  and  spoke  rap- 
idly to  the  man  behind  him. 

Mogul  meantime  used  his  slackened  rein  to 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT          231 

feel  me  all  over  with  his  velvet  nose.  But  if 
he  were  disappointed  at  not  finding  any  sugar 
cane,  he  did  not  show  it.  His  delight  in  me 
seemed  almost  as  human  as  mine  in  him. 

"Look  you,  girl/'  Senor  Perez,  concluding 
his  parley,  gathered  up  the  reins.  "Go  and 
bring  this  Padre  Francisco  to  me.  We  will 
await  you  in  the  little  glade  which  I  see  open- 
ing out  ahead." 

I  picked  up  Felix  and  ran,  nor  did  I  stop 
until,  breathless,  I  burst  into  the  group  of  men 
who  had  gathered  about  the  church.  Evi- 
dently the  children  had  spread  the  tidings  of 
threatened  invasion.  The  men  were  armed 
with  machetes,  bows  and  arrows,  clubs,  and 
some  few  with  pistols.  Our  guns  were  no 
longer  of  any  use,  since  no  powder  could  be 
obtained.  These  details  I  noted,  in  quick  con- 
trast with  the  well  armed  horsemen  who  were 
waiting  my  return. 

"The  Padre,  where  is  he?"  I  gasped.  A 
lane  was  opened  for  me  directly  to  the  church 


232  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

steps  where  he  stood.  It  took  only  a  few  mo- 
ments to  acquaint  him  with  what  had  hap- 
pened. 

He  considered  swiftly,  his  eyes  on  Felix. 
"We  will  leave  him  here/'  he  said.  "Felix,  go 
to  Tezpi.  Tezpi,  hide  this  child  and  guard 
him  with  your  life.  This  may  be  my  last 
charge  to  you.  Let  it  be  your  first  concern." 
From  his  breast  he  took  a  packet.  "Keep  this 
also;  it  is  his." 

It  was  no  time  for  farewells.  With  neither 
backward  look  nor  thought,  I  led  the  way  to 
the  glen. 

There  we  found  the  troopers  had  dis- 
mounted. Some  stood  guard  with  the  horses ; 
others  occupied  the  steep  slopes  from  which 
they  commanded  all  approaches.  The  Padre 
stepped  forward  fearlessly,  and  Sefior  Perez, 
doffing  his  hat,  invited  him  to  be  seated  on  a 
mossy  bank  which  formed  a  natural  seat. 

As  for  me,  who  could  be  of  no  further  use, 
I  fled  from  the  curious  glances  of  the  soldiers, 
back  to  Tezpi  and  Felix  in  the  church. 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT         233 

It  was  perhaps  an  hour  later  that  the  Padre 
returned,  bringing  with  him  the  whole  com- 
pany. Two  and  two,  with  led  horses  they 
walked,  the  Padre  and  Senor  Perez  at  the  head. 
To  Tezpi  and  the  waiting  Indians,  this  peace- 
ful conclusion  of  the  conference  was  not  a  sur- 
prise. Scouts,  noiseless  and  invisible  to  the 
invaders,  had  already  brought  word  of  the  ap- 
proaching cavalcade.  When  the  two  bands  of 
men  came  within  speaking  distance,  the  Padre 
stepped  forth.  In  a  few  words  he  explained 
to  the  villagers  that  Senor  Perez,  and  all  whom 
he  befriended,  were  his  friends;  that,  driven 
from  Lerma  by  those  who  had  captured  the 
city,  they  were  on  their  way  to  join  their  loyal 
comrades  of  the  Carranza  army,  to  which  after 
the  fall  of  Madero  so  many  of  the  more  mod- 
erate revolutionists  had  turned,  in  the  City  of 
Mexico. 

"But,"  he  continued,  "having  heard  from 
me  of  the  fall  of  that  city  also  they  ask  per- 
mission to  tarry  with  us  until  better  news  shall 
come.  These,  also,  Capitan,"  he  turned  to  the 


234  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

officer  and  indicated  the  Indians  with  a  pro- 
tecting gesture,  "these  also  are  my  friends,  and 
this,"  beckoning  Tezpi  forward,  "is  the  father 
of  Ramon.  My  friend,  behold  in  Senor  Perez 
the  benefactor  of  your  son." 

The  rejoicing  of  the  village  in  this  announce- 
ment of  the  double  bond  between  them  and 
the  strangers  knew  no  bounds.  Messengers 
quickly  recalled  the  women  and  children,  and 
others  swift  of  foot  ran  with  words  of  peace 
to  each  village  within  our  confederation.  That 
night  a  celebration  rivaling  that  of  the  antici- 
pated Corpus  Christi  took  place  in  our  midst. 
We  killed  of  our  best,  and  a  great  feast  was 
held,  followed  by  music  and  dancing  till  the 
dawn. 

In  the  succeeding  weeks,  Senor  Perez's  troop, 
for  our  better  protection  and  their  greater  com- 
fort, was  portioned  out  among  the  different 
villages.  The  soldiers  were  glad  to  relieve  our 
men  of  sentry  duty,  and  altogether  by  reason 
of  their  fast  horses  and  superior  equipment  for 
fighting,  gave  us  a  real  security  such  as  we  had 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT          235 

not  before  enjoyed.  But  Senor  Perez  himself 
and  a  dozen  of  his  men  remained  with  us. 

Naturally,  the  Padre  and  I  were  most  anx- 
ious for  news  from  Lerma  and  the  surround- 
ing country.  This,  Senor  Perez,  who  had  Ra  - 
mon's  room  in  our  own  house,  was  only  too 
willing  to  give.  It  seemed  that  he  and  his 
company  had  been  actually  quartered  at  the 
Hacienda  de  los  Pajaritos  Santos  two  months 
before,  scouting  and  awaiting  the  advance  of 
the  enemy.  The  Casa  Grande,  though  ruin- 
ous, he  told  us,  was  still  habitable,  and  the  es- 
tate producing  in  wild  luxuriance.  No  one  had 
attempted  to  administer  it  since  its  confisca- 
tion by  the  Madero  government,  acting  through 
the  jefe  politico  in  connection  with  the  raid. 
The  peones,  however,  until  this  most  recent 
disturbance,  had  continued  on  in  their  various 
villages,  and  tilled  an  increasing  hectarage  of 
land  for  their  own  use. 

The  Village  of  the  Shield  also  had  been  in- 
habited, he  thought  by  the  remnant  of  the 
tribe. 


236  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

"And  what  of  the  administrador?"  the  Padre 
asked.  "Did  he  then  reap  no  profit  from  his 
infamy?" 

"Only  for  the  period  of  his  brief  triumph 
among  us  in  Lerma,"  Sefior  Perez  answered. 
"Had  I  known  sooner  of  his  evil  character,  his 
fall  would  have  been  even  more  swift.  But 
after  Madero's  government  went  to  pieces,  he 
vanished,  leaving  his  friend  the  jefe  to  pay  for 
the  misdemeanors  of  both. 

"The  jefe?  He  was  sent  to  San  Juan  de 
Uloa.  What  became  of  him  after  the  open- 
ing of  the  prison,  I  do  not  know,  any  more  than 
I  know  what  became  of  our  friend  Don  Luis 
whom  he,  God  reward  him,  had,  as  I  now 
know,  sent  to  that  vile  hole." 

"Did  you  know  Lola?"     I  ventured  to  ask. 

"Yes ;  any  that  knew  Almonte  knew  her  also, 
who  presided  at  many  of  the  drunken  banquets 
he  gave.  I  thought  I  saw  her  the  day  I  left 
Lerma.  She  has  become  a  soldadera*9  fol- 
lowing the  army.  It  seemed  to  me  I  recog- 
nized her  among  the  other  women  riding  on  the 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT         237 

top  of  a  slow-moving  freight  train  which 
brought  the  last  reinforcements  to  the  enemy, 
before  I  succeeded  in  blowing  up  the  bridge 
across  the  river.  The  sight  of  her  made  me 
think  that  Almonte  could  not  be  far  off." 

Sad  though  his  news  made  us,  for  he  told 
also  of  the  terrible  devastation  caused  by  the 
most  recent  occupation  of  the  city,  of  starva- 
tion, pillage  and  murder  through  all  the  coun- 
tryside, yet  certainty  of  any  kind  was  welcome 
in  place  of  conjecture.  We  grieved  more  that 
he  could  bring  us  no  word  of  Ramon  or  of 
Don  Luis  than  for  any  other  cause.  But,  day 
by  day,  as  he  unfolded  the  distressing  condi- 
tions which  prevailed  around  us,  we  grew  in- 
creasingly thankful  for  the  safe  retreat  a  mer- 
ciful  Providence  had  provided  for  us.  I  know 
not  how  it  was  with  the  Padre,  but  I  grew 
more  anxious  about  the  fate  of  our  loved  ones, 
kept  far  from  us,  somewhere  in  the  turmoil 
of  the  war. 

Senor  Perez  was  not  inactive  in  trying  to 
secure  information  as  to  the  course  of  the  revo- 


238  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

lution.  From  time  to  time  his  scouts  brought 
news  that  was  more  promising  of  settled  gov- 
ernment. At  length  word  came  that  Mexico 
City  had  passed  again  from  the  hands  of 
Zapata's  Indians  into  those  of  Carranza.  This 
was  the  event  for  which  Senor  Perez  had  long 
waited.  Yet  strangely  enough,  he  seemed  in 
no  great  haste  to  depart. 

His  reluctance  was  the  more  irritating  to 
me,  because  he  had  spoken  time  and  again  not 
only  of  his  eagerness  to  fight  once  more  for 
the  First  Chief,  as  Carranza  was  called,  but  to 
seek  and  find  Don  Luis  and  Ramon.  I  could 
not  understand  an  impatience  that  brooked  de- 
lay, until  on  the  eve  of  his  departure,  I  hap- 
pened to  see  him  with  Nahua.  Their  attitude, 
the  pain  on  their  faces,  told  its  own  story. 
They  loved  each  other,  and  they  were  saying 
good-by.  I  stole  away,  my  heart  torn  between 
their  happiness  and  their  grief. 

But  Senor  Perez  was  not  the  only  one  who 
left  his  heart  among  us  that  summer.  Fully 
a  third  of  his  troopers,  most  of  whom  were, 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT 


239 


like  himself,  half  Indian  and  half  Spanish,  re- 
mained behind,  making  their  homes  in  our  va- 
rious villages  with  the  maidens  they  had  won. 
Senor  Perez  himself  had  encouraged  them  in 
doing  this,  seeing  the  farsightedness  of  the 
Padre's  policy  of  aloofness  from  the  political 
conflict,  and  lending  thus  the  only  help  in  his 
power  to  protect  us  in  our  rights. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

MONTHS  of  blank  uncertainty  again 
closed  about  us  after  el  Capitdn  Perez 
and  his  troopers  rode  away.  The  Indians 
from  the  south,  defeated,  no  longer  seemed 
able  to  reach  us,  and  from  the  north  came  no 
more  refugees.  The  Padre  argued  that  this 
inactivity  within  the  mountains  meant  a  more 
settled  state  of  government  without.  And,  in 
fact,  the  meager  information  which  our  scouts 
picked  up  confirmed  this  conjecture.  Lerma, 
as  well  as  Mexico  City,  they  reported,  was 
now  held  by  Carranza.  Yet  if  all  were  peace- 
ful once  more,  surely  Senor  Perez  would  be 
the  first  to  hasten  to  us  with  the  glad  news. 
The  truth  was,  fighting,  desperate  fighting,  still 
continued;  but  the  scene  of  it  had  shifted  to 
other  territories  far  removed  from  us.  There 

the  decision  as  to  who  should  rule  over  the 

240 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT         241 

ruins  of  our  land  hung  on  the  outcome  of  bat- 
tles still  unfought. 

Undoubtedly  the  time  passed  heavily  for 
Nahua,  deprived  at  its  very  dawning,  of  her 
happiness.  I  could  see  how  anxiety  wore  on 
her  fragile  beauty,  giving  depth  to  her  blue 
eyes  and  maturity  to  her  face.  In  a  new- 
found comradeship,  for  the  most  part  un- 
spoken, we  worked  together  in  church  and  vil- 
lage or  walked  in  the  fields  which  held  so  many 
memories  for  us  both.  But  to  her,  inevitably, 
each  day  brought  its  hope.  Sefior  Perez, 
young,  confident,  and  secure  in  the  favor  of  his 
chief,  how  should  he  not  come  riding  once  more 
down  the  glen  at  the  close  of  the  war  to  claim 
her  and  take  her  away  with  him  to  the  gay 
scenes  he  had  pictured  in  Lerma  and  in  the 
City  of  Mexico? 

I,  on  the  other  hand,  in  the  calm  of  a  hope 
so  long  deferred  that  it  bordered  on  despair, 
felt  in  comparatively  trivial  ways,  yet  sharply, 
the  loss  of  el  Capitdn.  The  music  he  drew 
from  Ramon's  violin  of  an  evening,  the  praise 


242  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

of  Ramon's  genius,  even  the  inarticulate  ca- 
resses of  Mogul, — I  had  not  realized  till  they 
were  gone  what  comfort  I  had  derived  from 
them.  Like  reflections  in  a  pool,  stirred  by  a 
passing  breeze,  they  stirred  in  my  heart  the 
image  of  Ramon. 

It  was  fortunate  for  me  at  this  time  that 
Felix  required  so  much  of  my  attention.  His 
mind  was  unusually  active  for  his  years,  and 
the  Padre  decided  that  he  ought  to  have  reg- 
ular lessons.  And  though  he  could  have  given 
this  instruction  himself  far  better  than  I,  he 
proposed  that  I  should  do  it.  I,  divining  why 
he  laid  this  task  upon  me,  marveled  at  his  wis- 
dom and  blessed  him  in  my  heart. 

So  it  came  about  that  Nahua,  as  was  indeed 
fitting,  replaced  me  in  many  of  the  village 
activities.  The  school  which  the  Padre  had 
started,  received  fresh  impetus  from  her  and 
from  the  young  men  of  the  Captain's  troop, 
more  or  less  educated,  who  had  cast  in  their  lot 
with  us.  In  my  care  was  left  only  the  primary 
class  I  had  started  with  the  children  of  Felix's 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT          243 

age.  These,  through  the  colder  winter 
months,  I  gathered  about  me  in  Ramon's  empty 
room. 

The  season  of  Easter,  with  its  bustle  of 
preparation,  was  once  more  upon  us.  One 
noon,  at  the  close  of  school,  I  lingered  behind 
my  little  pupils,  erasing  the  day's  lessons  from 
the  home-made  blackboards  which  served  us  in 
place  of  books.  My  back  was  turned  to  the 
door,  when  I  became  aware  that  some  one  had 
entered  the  room.  Thinking  it  was  the  Padre, 
who  often  stopped  to  look  in  upon  me,  I  did 
not  even  turn  around. 

Suddenly  some  one  spoke  my  name :  "Por- 
firia,  hermanita!"  That  voice?  Those 
words?  Only  one  person  in  the  world  could 
speak  them.  But  I,  who  would  have  given  my 
life  to  hear  them  in  the  long,  long  months  of 
waiting,  swooned  away  at  the  sound. 

When  I  came  to  myself,  it  was  to  find  the 
Padre,  as  well  as  Ramon,  bending  over  me. 
To  me  it  seemed  like  heaven.  I  put  out  my 
hand  timidly  and  touched  Ramon's.  The  grip 


244  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

with  which  his  closed  over  it  reassured  me. 
But  for  my  happiness,  I  could  have  cried  out 
with  pain. 

"Are  you  better?"  he  inquired  anxiously. 
"How  stupid  of  me  to  have  startled  you  so. 
And  yet,"  he  ended  happily,  "how  else  should 
I  have  come?  I  could  not  wait." 

How  could  I  help  being  better  under  that 
best  of  physicians,  joy  itself?  The  Padre,  his 
eyes  twinkling  through  tears,  laughed  with  a 
lightheartedness  I  had  not  heard  since  our  old, 
peaceful  days  at  the  hacienda.  A  shout  from 
the  doorway  told  that  Felix  had  recognized 
the  stranger  who  was  causing  such  a  commo- 
tion. In  another  instant,  he  was  riding  wildly 
around  the  room  on  Ramon's  shoulder,  and 
having  all  he  could  do  to  keep  his  seat. 

"But  tell  us,"  the  Padre  said  when  our  de- 
light had  somewhat  abated,  and  we  were  seated 
at  dinner  on  the  porch,  "how  did  you  steal 
such  a  march  on  us,  and  whence  do  you  come  ?" 

"As  to  the  first  question,  I  came  down  the 
glen.  There  was  no  one  in  sight,  and  ours  be- 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT         245 

ing  the  first  house,  I  naturally  entered.  And 
as  to  the  second,  I  rode  from  Lerma  with  a 
party  of  horsemen  who  must  be  even  yet  wait- 
ing my  return  up  in  the  mountains.  I  charged 
them  on  no  account  to  approach  the  village  till 
I  came  back;  for,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  had  it  in 
mind  to  surprise  you.  After  so  long  a  wan- 
dering, I  could  not  forego  that  small  reward. 
They  have  enough  to  eat,"  he  added,  "and  they 
can  wait." 

"From  Lerma,  then,  you — " 

"Yes,  I  have  much  to  tell  you."  His  face 
became  grave.  He  had  aged,  it  seemed  to  me, 
ten  years.  "Don  Luis  is  there." 

"Thank  God !"  ejaculated  the  Padre. 

"Yes,  I  found  him,  but  he  is  ill — a  broken 
man.  You  remember,  Father,  the  night  I  left 
to  find  the  bandidof  That  man,"  Ramon 
shuddered,  "proved  to  be  the  jefe  politico  of 
Lerma,  the  same  who  betrayed  our  village,  con- 
nived at  the  murder  of  Dona  Marina,  and  sent 
Don  Luis  to  what  he  thought  was  certain 
death.  He  had  been  an  outlaw  in  these  moun- 


246  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

tains  before  Diaz  bought  him  off  with  an  office, 
as  his  custom  was.  You  have  all  heard  of 
Moldavo,  the  cutthroat  who  terrorized  the 
passes  toward  Mexico  twenty  years  ago, — per- 
haps you  knew,  Padre,  that  the  jefe  was  that 
man. 

"It  must  have  been  a  bitter  blow  to  him  to 
follow  not  only  Don  Luis,  but  such  of  his  other 
victims  as  still  lived,  to  the  dungeons  of  San 
Juan.  His  chattering  teeth  and  rolling  eyes 
as  I  questioned  him  about  his  fellow  prisoners 
attested  his  abhorrence  of  the  place.  Ca- 
raniba!  I  had  all  I  could  do  to  keep  my  hands 
from  his  lying  throat  and  ending  him  then  and 
there ! 

"But  at  least,  I  thought,  I  would  first  make 
sure  that  he  told  the  truth  about  Don  Luis, 
who,  he  said,  was  still  alive  at  the  opening  of 
the  prison.  I  struck  a  bargain  with  the 
wretch,  to  take  me  down  to  the  coast  by  the 
paths  he  knew.  That  was  a  loathsome  com- 
radeship in  which  my  only  security  was  my 
right  hand,  and  my  nerve,  not  shaken  as  his  was 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT          247 

by  the  horrors  through  which  he  had  passed. 
And  in  the  end  I  learned  little  more  of  Don 
Luis  than  he  had  told  me, — and  was  sold  in 
my  turn  by  him  to  one  of  the  pressgangs  that 
infested  Mexico  City.  A  blow  on  the  head, 
unconsciousness, — and  the  next  morning  I  was 
a  soldier  on  board  an  insurgent  troop  train 
bound  for  the  north. 

"You  can  imagine  my  anguish,  trapped  into 
fighting  for  a  cause  I  did  not  understand  and 
had  every  reason,  from  my  own  personal  ex- 
perience, to  loathe,  and  unable  to  continue  the 
search  for  my  dear  patron.  But  heaven  gave 
me  one  compensation;  with  my  own  hands,  I 
later  sent  the  jefe  to  his  last  account.  That 
happened  in  Mexico  City  a  year  ago.  He  was 
fighting  for  Zapata,  I  by  that  time  for  Car- 
ranza.  It  did  not  matter  so  much  to  me  that  I 
was  taken  prisoner  by  Zapata's  victorious 
army,  so  long  as  I  had  rid  the  world  of  him. 
In  truth,  I  found  the  southern  Indians  kindly 
disposed,  in  great  contrast  to  the  ferocity  of 
the  contending  armies  in  the  north.  I  was 


248  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

wounded  and  they  cared  for  me,  until  the  for- 
tunes of  war,  favoring  Carranza,  swept  them 
out  of  the  city.  Me,  with  the  other  wounded, 
they  left  behind. 

"Had  it  not  been  for  Sefior  Perez's  arrival 
shortly  after,  I  know  not  how  it  might  have 
fared  with  me.  But  he  had  me  placed  in  a 
hospital.  And  there  it  was,  when  my  fever 
abated,  that  I  discovered  Don  Luis. 

"There  lay  in  a  cot  near  mine  an  old  man, 
white  haired  and  wasted  by  disease.  As  I  be- 
came partly  conscious  of  my  surroundings,  I 
was  often  annoyed  by  his  ravings,  which 
merged  from  time  to  time  into  my  own  fevered 
dreams.  I  grew  better,  but  he  continued  in  the 
same  unhappy  state.  One  morning  I  found 
myself  listening  to  him  intelligently.  'Marina, 
my  Marina,'  he  kept  repeating;  then  wildly, 
'Felix,  where  are  you?  O  my  son!' 

"No  wonder  the  sounds  had  blended  with 
my  own  anguish.  I  turned  my  head  and  saw 
in  that  old,  tossing  form  the  ruin  of  what  Don 
Luis  had  been. 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT          249 

"What  might  have  been  a  relapse  from  the 
shock  of  this  discovery,  I  think  I  prevented  by 
sheer  force  of  will.  I  knew  I  must  keep  my 
senses,  and  I  did.  When  el  Capitdn  Perez 
came  at  my  summons,  he  was  as  thankful  as  I. 
That  same  day,  he  had  us  both  removed  to  a 
quiet  house,  and  from  there,  as  soon  as  Don 
Luis  was  able,  we  brought  him  to  Lerma  with 
us." 

Ramon  paused,  and  for  a  space  no  one  spoke. 
The  terrible  story  he  had  told  was  to  us,  to 
whom  he  was  so  dear,  the  most  realistic  picture 
we  could  have  had  of  the  brutal  struggles  from 
which  he  had  thus  hardly  escaped.  Felix 
crept  close  to  me,  and  I  to  Ramon.  Only  by 
such  nearness  could  I  endure  the  suspense,  or 
convince  myself  that  he  had  escaped. 

"But  is  Don  Luis  recovered?"  questioned 
the  Padre. 

"He  has,  in  so  far  that  his  mind  is  now  clear. 
But  his  body  is  crushed  with  weakness,  and  his 
heart, — only  little  Felix  here  can  heal  that. 
He  is  counting  the  minutes  until  we  return." 


250  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

I  can  well  remember — I  shall  never  forget 
— how  Ramon's  last  words,  so  simple  and  alto- 
gether to  be  expected,  opened  a  gulf  beneath 
my  feet.  In  my  dreams  of  his  homecoming, 
my  attitude  had  still  been  that  of  a  child.  I 
had  not  reasoned  that  the  event  would  destroy 
once  more  the  continuity  of  our  lives,  or  break 
up  the  circle  which  adversity  had  welded  about 
us.  At  a  touch,  disintegration  threatened. 
Ramon,  the  Padre,  Felix,  each  had  a  destiny 
apart  from  mine.  I  held  Felix  tightly,  so 
tightly  that  it  hurt  him.  He  and  all  my  dear 
ones,  whose  pleasure  it  had  been  mine  to  serve, 
soon,  I  felt,  they  would  slip  away  from  me, 
and  need  me  no  more. 

But  now,  six  months  later,  I  can  only  pray 
for  forgiveness  for  the  blind  selfishness  which, 
even  had  my  fears  been  realized,  ought  never 
to  have  dimmed  my  happiness.  As  I  look  out 
to-day  from  the  balcony  of  the  hacienda,  the 
hardy  Virgin's  Mantles  which  wreath  its 
crumbling  pillars,  frame  once  more  the  placid 


A  SONG  IN  THE  NIGHT         251 

reaches  of  the  lake.  Down  on  the  shore,  the 
Village  of  the  Shield,  but  a  tinier  village  than 
I  used  to  know,  nestles  in  the  shelter  of  the 
fire-gutted  Church.  The  Sefiorita's  garden 
stretches  at  my  feet,  a  tangle  of  dry  weeds; 
and  beyond  the  broken  walls  the  Hacienda  de 
los  Pajaritos  Santos  lies  waste.  Yet  on  the 
instant,  the  long  sala  behind  me  reechoes  with 
laughter ;  the  bass  voice  of  Don  Luis,  answered 
by  a  child's  clear  treble.  Evidently  Felix  has 
been  playing  one  of  his  merry  pranks. 

But  I  will  not  go  in  to  join  them  just  yet. 
Coming  down  the  road  from  Lerma  I  see  the 
cloud  of  dust  for  which  I  have  been  waiting 
all  the  long  afternoon.  It  is  Mogul  and  a 
troop  of  horsemen  bringing  Ramon  from  his 
duties  in  the  city,  to  spend  the  blessed  Sabbath 
with  me.  He  will  have  news  of  his  sister, 
Nahua,  now  married  to  our  new  Governor, 
Sefior  Perez.  Perhaps  he  will  also  carry  a 
letter  from  the  Padre,  who  writes  us  often 
from  his  parish  among  the  Tecos  Indians, 
whom  he  felt  he  could  not  leave.  Best  of  all, 


252  THE  VILLAGE  SHIELD 

he  brings  me  himself,  for  he  has  told  me  that 
he  belongs  to  me. 

Whatever  befall  in  our  future, — and  the 
political  clouds  lift  only  to  gather  more  darkly 
about  us, — my  part  in  it  is  assured.  It  may  be 
we  shall  remain  with  Don  Luis,  who  wishes 
Ramon  to  help  him  in  portioning  out  his  vast 
estate  among  the  pitiful  remnant  of  his  In- 
dians. It  may  be  Sefior  Perez  is  right  in 
thinking  that  Ramon's  world  will  eventually 
be  that  of  music.  Or  his  own  inclination  may 
lead  him  back  among  his  people,  to  take  his 
father's  place. 

But  what  if  his  destiny  were  even  higher 
than  any  of  these?  There  lives  an  old  saying 
among  my  people,  that  the  deliverer  of  Mexico 
will  arise  from  the  Tarascan  race.  What  if 
my  Ramon  were  he?  Yet  as  I  hope,  I  also 
pray.  May  the  good  God  shield  him  from  the 
fate  of  Hidalgo,  and  that  of  all  men  of  blood, 
and  turn  our  Cry  of  Sorrow  into  a  song  of  joy! 
This  at  least  I  know:  Wherever  Ramon  is, 
I  shall  be  also.  That  I  have  promised  him. 


NOTES 


NOTES 

No.  i.  Colima: — A  volcano  in  the  State  of  Jalisco.  It 
is  12,278  feet  high,  and  beautiful  in  outline. 

No.  2.  Milpa: — A  cornfield. 

No.  3.  Pescados  blancos: — White  fish. 

No.  4.  Tortillas: — Flat  cakes,  like  pancakes,  made  of 
corn  meal. 

No.  5.  Mania: — Literally,  blanket,  but  used  in  Mexico 
to  designate  the  coarse  white  cotton  from  which 
the  trousers  and  coats  of  the  peones  are  made. 

No.  6.  Petates: — A  petate  is  a  mat  woven,  in  most 
cases,  of  palm  leaf. 

No.  /.  Skep: — A  conical  hive  of  straw. 

No.  8.  Cacique: — The  Spanish  form  of  the  Indian 
word  for  chief. 

No.  p.  Pobrecita: — A  diminutive,  meaning  poor  little 
thing. 

No.  10.  Tarascos: — The  Indians  called  by  the  Span- 
iards Tarascos,  inhabited  a  large  and  flourishing 
territory  to  the  west  of  that  governed  by  the 
Aztecs,  of  whom  they  were  independent  allies. 

No.  ii.  Casa  Grande: — Like  the  "Big  House"  of  our 
own  Southern  plantations ;  the  master's  home. 

No.  12.  Tuna: — The  fruit  of  two  kinds  of  cactus  bears 
this  name;  the  more  common,  that  of  the  round- 
257 


258  NOTES 

leaved  nopal,  the  other  (the  variety  here  meant) 
that  of  a  branching  or  candelabra  cactus. 

No.  13.  Peones: — The  common  people,  usually  day 
laborers,  and  hence,  in  many  cases,  serfs. 

No.  14.  Fiesta: — A  feast  or  festival;  synonymous  with 
all  holy  days. 

No.  15.  Corpus  Christi: — In  Mexico  this  was,  before 
the  disestablishment  of  1857,  the  most  splendid 
festival  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church;  it  occurs 
on  the  Thursday  after  Trinity. 

No.  16.  Barrancas: — A  barranca  is  a  deep  gorge. 

No.  77.  Mescal: — A  very  intoxicating  liquor  made  of 
the  root  of  a  species  of  agave. 

No.  18.  Tequila: — Another  liquor  distilled  from  the 
same  plant. 

No.  /p.  Aguardiente: — A  liquor  derived  from  sugar 
cane  or  grapes. 

No.  20.  Maguey: — The  noblest  member  of  the  agave 
family  is  known  with  us  as  the  "Century  Plant." 

No.  21.  Hacienda: — A  large  country  estate.  Some  of 
the  haciendas  of  Mexico  comprise  as  many  square 
miles  as  the  State  of  Connecticut. 

No.  22.  Administrador : — Manager. 

No.  23.  Moctezuma: — Whom  we  call  Montezuma,  was 
the  last  of  the  Aztec  emperors.  He  was  de- 
throned by  Cortes,  and  died  in  1520. 

No.  24.  Ninita: — Little  girl. 

No.  25.  Porfiria: — The  heroine  of  our  story  was 
named  for  the  most  famous  of  Mexico's  presi- 
dents, Porfirio  Diaz. 


NOTES  259 

No.  26.  Ay  de  mi: — Alas ! 

No.  27.  Sarape: — The  square  blanket  which  serves  as 
cloak  by  day  and  cover  by  night  to  the  Mexican 
Indian.  The  handiwork  of  these  blankets  is  often 
very  fine. 

No.  28.  El  temblor: — The  earthquake. 

No.  29.  Vaquero: — Herdsman ;  cowboy. 

No.  30.  Peso: — The  Mexican  dollar. 

No.  31.  Centavos: — A  centavo  is  the  hundredth  part 
of  a  peso,  corresponding  to  our  cent. 

No.  32.  Pajaritos  Santos: — Blessed  little  birds. 

No.  33.  Hacendado: — The  owner,  usually  the  heredi- 
tary owner,  like  an  English  squire,  of  a  landed  es- 
tate. 

No.  34.  Burros: — Donkeys. 

No.  35.  Pantalones: — The  tight,  often  ornamented, 
trousers  of  the  gentleman,  in  contradistinction  to 
the  loose  cotton  trousers  of  the  peon. 

No.  36.  Caballero: — Literally,  a  horseman,  hence,  a 
gentleman. 

No.  37.  Sola: — Drawing-room. 

No.  38.  For  Dios: — Expletives  are  much  more 
used  in  Spanish  than  in  English:  For  God's 
sake. 

No.  3p.  Vireyes: — Viceroys. 

No.  40.  Pulque: — A  mildly  intoxicating  drink  distilled 
from  the  agave  which  grows  on  the  table-lands. 
Its  use  accounts  for  much  of  the  degradation  of 
the  Mexican  peon  in  these  regions. 

No.  41.  Conquistador: — Conqueror.     A  term  applied 


260  NOTES 

invariably  to  Hernando  Cortes.  He  and  his  army 
were  the  conquistadores  of  Mexico. 

No.  42.  Que  hombre: — Literally,  what  a  man!  But 
hombre  is  a  term  of  inferiority. 

No.  43.  Cuidado: — Take  care! 

No.  44.  A  boca  llena: — In  the  open. 

No.  45.  Mi  amigo: — My  friend. 

No.  46.  Moso: — A  man-servant. 

No.  47.  Con  permiso: — With  your  permission. 

No.  48.  Jefe  politico: — Literally,  a  political  chief,  or 
judge.  Under  the  administration  of  President 
Diaz,  the  jefe  politico  was  appointed  in  each  dis- 
trict by  the  Federal  Government  as  its  representa- 
tive, and  was  responsible  directly  to  this  Govern- 
ment. In  effect,  the  jefe  was  an  autocratic  spy. 

No.  49.  Caramba: — Expletive:  Go  to! 

No.  50.  Mexican  Land  Law  (in  special  relation  to  the 
village  shield)  : — Immediately  after  the  conquest 
of  Mexico,  the  lands  were  portioned  out,  as  was 
natural,  among  the  Spaniards.  Certain  Indian 
tribes,  however,  who  had  aided  the  conquerors, 
retained  their  lands ;  others  kept  them  by  force 
of  arms.  In  the  course  of  time,  to  protect  the 
rights  of  the  Indians,  the  Kings  of  Spain  made 
notable  enactments,  forbidding  serfdom,  and  con- 
firming Indian  communities  in  their  right  to  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  land.  Under  these  laws,  each  In- 
dian commune  held  a  portion  of  land  called  the 
egido,  or  shield,  extending  in  a  circle  600  varas, 
or  1800  feet  from  the  village  church,  and  in  ad- 


NOTES  261 

dition  to  this  a  square  tract  of  3600  feet  base  line. 
All  the  villages  which  were  formerly  robbed  of 
their  lands,  had  until  recently  at  least,  this  pos- 
session. After  the  establishment  of  the  Repub- 
lic, the  Constitution  of  Benito  Juarez,  in  1857, 
confirmed  every  holding  of  this  kind.  These  lands 
were  recorded  by  the  municipal  authorities  for 
purposes  of  taxation,  but  not  in  any  other  way. 
During  the  latter  part  of  the  administration  of 
President  Diaz,  many  of  these  "village  shields" 
and  similar  grants  comprising  in  some  cases  fertile 
plains  and  valleys  supporting  a  population  of 
20,000  souls,  were  seized  by  the  Government,  in 
accordance  with  a  law  passed  for  the  purpose,  as 
"unrecorded  lands." 

No.  51.  Madre  mia:— My  Mother;  in  this  case,  an  in- 
vocation to  the  Virgin. 

No.  52.  Bandits: — The  history  of  Mexico  is  a  history 
of  notable  bandits  who,  like  Robin  Hood,  took  toll 
of  all  travelers  and  even  attacked  fortified  places 
for  loot. 

No.  53.  Virgin's  Mantles: — Blue  convolvuli. 

No.  54.  Varas: — A  vara  is  a  yard. 

No.  55.  Jarros: — A  jarro  is  a  jar  with  one  handle. 

No.  56.  Machete: — A  heavy  scimitar-shaped  knife. 

No.  57.  Olla: — A  round  earthen  pot. 

No.  58.  Mesquite: — A  species  of  mimosa,  common  in 
arid  and  semi-arid  America. 

No.  5p.  Andale,  muchacho: — Hurry,  boy! 

No.  60.  Zaguan: — A  courtyard  gate. 


262  NOTES 

No.  61.  Patio: — The  open  square,  usually  laid  out  as 
a  garden  or  gay  with  potted  plants,  about  which 
the  typical  Mexican  house  is  built. 

No.  62.  Incommunicado: — In  solitary  confinement. 

No.  63.  Los  Estados  Unidos  de  America: — The  United 
States  of  America,  in  contradistinction  to  the 
United  States  of  Mexico. 

No.  64.  Portales: — Arcades  built  over  the  sidewalks. 

No.  65.  Nieve: — Literally,  snow.  The  common  name 
for  ices  and  ice  cream. 

No.  66.  Pronunciamiento: — Proclamation. 

No.  67.  Ojald: — Would  to  God;  God  grant! 

No.  68.  Bastante: — Enough. 

No.  dp.  Siesta: — The  after-luncheon  nap  indulged  in 
in  all  hot  countries. 

No.  70.  Palacio  de  Gobernacion: — Palace  of  Govern- 
ment ;  State  House. 

No.  71.  Paseo: — The  drive. 

No.  72.  Reboso: — A  shawl. 

No.  73.  Bandidos: — Bandits. 

No.  74.  Hermanita: — Little  sister. 

No.  75.  Tierra  caliente: — Hot  country;  torrid  zone. 
In  Mexico  the  climate  varies  sharply  with  the  alti- 
tude. 

No.  ^6.  Tierra  templada: — Temperate  country;  tem- 
perate zone. 

No.  77.  La  Pas: — Peace. 

No.  ^8.  Hectare: — Ten  square  meters. 

No.  70.  Quien  sabe: — Who  knows? 

No.  80.  Zorillos: — A  zorillo  is  a  skunk. 


NOTES  263 

No.  81.  Padrecito: — Little  father. 

No.  82.  Moctadir: — The  Moorish  foe  of  the  Spanish 
hero,  the  Cid. 

No.  83.  Iguana: — A  large  lizard. 

No.  84.  Primavera: — A  species  of  hibiscus  flowering 
very  early  in  the  spring. 

No.  85.  Clavillina: — Cottonwood  tree. 

No.  86.  Caritito: — Little  dear. 

No.  87.  Barranca  Azul: — Blue  Gorge. 

No.  88.  Mirador: — A  pavilion. 

No.  89.  Pico  de  Oro: — Beak  of  gold;  Golden  beak. 

No.  po.  Huitsitzilin: — Tarascan  name  for  humming- 
bird. 

No.  pi.  Papayas: — Pawpaws. 

No.  92.  Bien,  muy  bien: — Good,  very  good. 

No.  pj.  Acequia: — An  irrigating  sluice. 

No.  94.  Floripundio: — A  tree  with  a  large  white  flower 
resembling  a  morning  glory. 

No.  p5.  Aztecs: — An  ancient  people  of  Mexico  who 
founded  the  City  of  Mexico,  and  from  it  ruled  a 
vast  empire.  They  were  conquered  by  the  Span- 
iards under  Cortes. 

No.  96.  Virgin  of  Guadalupe: — The  name  under  which 
the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary  is  worshiped  by  the  In- 
dians, to  one  of  whom  she  is  said  to  have  shown 
herself.  Her  most  famous  shrine  is  at  Guadalupe. 

No.  97.  Gicaras: — Bowls  made  of  gourds. 

No.  98.  Calzontsin: — The  Spanish  rendering  of  the 
Indian  name  for  the  last  Tarascan  king. 

No.  pp.  Soldadera: — A   woman   who    accompanies   a 


264 


NOTES 


soldier  as  cook  and  general  provider.  All  the 
Mexican  armies  are  accompanied  by  women  and 
often  by  children,  the  families  of  the  soldiers. 
No.  100.  Ley  Fuga: — (See  title  of  Book  II.)  The 
law  which  held  in  case  of  offenders  under  sus- 
picion or  under  arrest  was  that  those  who  at- 
tempted escape  could  be  shot  with  impunity.  In 
the  case  of  a  criminal  so  disposed  of,  no  investiga- 
tion was  ever  made. 


000  053  362 


